4  1 


THE  EXPOSITOR'S  BIBLE 


EDITED  BY  THE  REV. 

W.  ROBERTSON  NICOLL,  M.A.,  LLD, 
Editor  of  "Tbs  Expositor'* 


AUTHORIZED  EDITION,  COMPLETE 

AND  UNABRIDGED 

BOUND  IN  TWENTY-FIVE  VOLUMES 


jrHWYORK 

A.  C  ARMSTRONG  AND  SON 

3  and  5  West  Eighteenth  Street 

It  Hodder  and  StougtUoa 

*903 


THE      GOSPEL 


ACCORDINQ  TO 


ST.    MARK. 


G.    A.    CHADWICK,    D.D., 

Dean  of  Armagh^ 

AWMOR  OP  "  CHRIST  BRAKING  WITNESS  TO  HIMSRUT,**  "  AS  MB  nUM 
•BWRTH,"  RTC. 


NEW  YORK 

A.  C.  ARMSTRONG  AND  SON 

3  and  5  West  Eighteenth  Street 

London:  Hodder  and  Stoughton 

1903 


CONTENTS. 


Chap.  I,  The  Beginning  of  the  Gospel,  i. — ^At  the  Jordan,  6. 
— The  Temptation,  13. — The  Early  Preaching 
and  the  First  Disciples,  17. — Teaching  with 
Authority,  20. — Miracles  24. — The  Demoniac, 
28. — ^A  Group  of  Miracles,  34. — ^Jesus  in  Soli- 
tude, 38. — The  Leper,  42 I 

„  II.  The  Sick  of  the  Palsy,  47.— -The  Son  of  Man,  52.— 
The  Call  and  Feast  of  Levi,  56.— The  Contro- 
versy concerning  Fasting,  61. — The  Sabbath,  66      47 

H  III.  The  Withered  Hand,  7 1  .—The  Choice  of  the  Twelve, 
75.— Characteristics  of  the  Twelve,  8o.--The 
Apostle  Judas,  88. — Christ  and  Beelzebub,  91. 
— **  Eternal  Sin,"  95. — The  Friends  of  Jesus,  99.      71 

»  IV.  The  Parables,  105. — The  Sower,  no. — Lamp  and 
Stand,  118. — The  Seed  growing  secretly,  121. — 
The  Mustard  Seed,  126. — Four  Miracles,  129. — 
The  Two  Storms,  133 10$ 

,      V.  The    Demoniac    of    Gadara,    141. — ^Thc    Men    of 

Gadara,  148. — ^With  Jairus,  151        .        .        .141 


CONTENTS, 


Chap.  VI.  Rejected  in  His  Own  Country,  i62.--The  Mission 
01  the  Twelve,  167.— -Herod,  170. — Bread  in 
the  Desert,  176. — Unwashen  Hands,  184        •    162 

,      VIL  Things  which  Defile,  190.— The  Children  and  the 

Dogs,  195. — The  Deaf-and-Dumb  Man,  200    •    190 

^  VIIL  The  Four  Thousand,  205. — ^The  Leaven  ot  the 
Pharisees,  208. — Men  as  Trees,  213.— The 
Confession  and  the  Warning,  216. — ^The  Re- 
buke of  Peter,  aai aoj 

«  QL  The  Transfiguration,  228. — The  Descent  from  th« 
Mount,  235. — The  Demoniac  Boy,  238. — ^Jesus 
and  the  Disciples,  247.— Offences,  254    .       .    sal 

I,  X.  Divorce,  263. — Christ  and  Little  Children,  268.— 
The  Rich  Inquirer,  274. — Who  then  can  be 
Saved?  281.— Christ's  Cup  and  Baptism,  287. 
—The  Law  of  Greatness,  292. — Bartimaeus, 
295 «^3 

^  XL  The  Triumphant  Entry,  299.— The  Barren  Fig- 
tree,  303. — The  Second  Cleansing  of  the 
Temple,  307. — ^The  Baptism  of  John,  whence 
was  it?  310      .......    299 

^  XIL  The  Husbandmen,  318.— The  Tribute  Money,  325. 
— Christ  and  the  Sadducees,  330. — The  Dis- 
cerning Scribe,  337. — David's  Lord«  341.— 
The  Widow's  Mite,  343  ...        •  ^t 


CONTENTS, 


[AKK.  rxaa 

^hap.  XIII.  Things  Perishing  and  Things  Stable,  346. — ^Thc 

Impending  Judgment,  351        ....    346 

I,  XIV.  The  Cruse  of  Ointment,  359.— The  Traitor,  364 
— The  Sop,  370. — Bread  and  Wine,  374. — 
The  Warning,  383. — In  the  Garden,  389. — 
The  Agony,  393. — The  Arrest,  401. — Before 
Caiaphas,  406. — The  Fall  of  Peter,  413   .        .    359 

»      XV.  Pilate,  4i8.--Christ  Crucified,  424.— The  Death 

of  Jesus,  431 418 

a     XVL  Christ  Risen,  437. — The  Ascension,  44a         •        •    437 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE   GOSPEL, 

•*  The  beginning  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God. 
Even  as  it  is  written  in  Isaiah  the  prophet,  Behold,  I  send  My  mes- 
senger before  Thy  face,  who  shall  prepare  Thy  way ;  The  voice  of  one 
crying  in  the  wilderness,  Make  ye  ready  the  way  of  the  Lord,  Make 
His  paths  straight ;  John  came,  who  baptized  in  the  wilderness  and 
preached  the  baptism  of  repentance  unto  remission  of  sins.  And  there 
went  out  unto  him  all  the  country  of  Judaea,  and  all  they  of  Jerusalem ; 
and  they  were  baptized  of  him  in  the  river  Jordan,  confessing  their  sins* 
And  John  was  clothed  with  camel's  hair,  and  had  a  leathern  girdle  aboat 
his  loins,  and  did  eat  locusts  and  wild  honey." — Mark  i.  i-6  (R.V.). 

'"T^HE  opening  of  St.  Mark's  Gospel  is  energetic  and 
JL  full  of  character.  St.  Matthew  traces  for  Jews 
the  pedigree  of  their  Messiah;  St.  Luke's  worldwide 
sympathies  linger  with  the  maiden  who  bore  Jesus,  and 
the  village  of  His  boyhood ;  and  St.  John's  theology 
proclaims  the  Divine  origin  of  the  Eternal  Lord.  But 
St.  Mark  trusts  the  public  acts  of  the  Mighty  Worker 
to  do  for  the  reader  what  they  did  for  those  who  first 
"  beheld  His  glory."  How  He  came  to  earth  can  safely 
be  left  untold :  what  He  was  will  appear  by  what  He 
wrought.  It  is  enough  to  record,  with  matchless  vivid- 
ness, the  toils,  the  energy,  the  love  and  wrath,  the 
defeat  and  triumph  of  the  brief  career  which  changed 
the  world.  It  will  prove  itself  to  be  the  career  of  "  the 
Son  of  God." 

In   so  deciding,    he    followed    the   example   of  the 
Apostolic  teaching.     The  first  vacant  place  among  the 

I 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 


Twelve  was  filled  by  an  eye-witness,  competent  to  tell 
what  Jesus  did  ''  from  the  baptism  of  John  to  the  day 
when  He  was  received  up,"  the  very  space  covered  by 
this  Gospel.  That  "  Gospel  of  peace,"  which  Cornelius 
heard  from  St.  Peter  (and  hearing,  received  the  Holy 
Ghost)  was  the  same  story  of  Jesus  "  after  the  baptism 
which  John  preached."  And  this  is  throughout  the 
substance  of  the  primitive  teaching.  The  Apostles  act 
as  men  who  believe  that  everything  necessary  to  salva- 
tion is  (implicit  or  explicit)  in  the  history  of  those  few 
crowded  years.     Therefore  this  is  "  the  gospel." 

Men  there  are  who  judge  otherwise,  and  whose  gospel 
is  not  the  story  of  salvation  wrought,  but  the  plan  of 
salvation  applied,  how  the  Atonement  avails  for  us, 
how  men  are  converted,  and  what  privileges  they 
then  receive.  But  in  truth  men  are  not  converted 
by  preaching  conversion,  any  more  than  citizens  are 
made  loyal  by  demanding  loyalty.  Show  men  their 
prince,  and  convince  them  that  he  is  gracious  and  truly 
royal,  and  they  will  die  for  him.  Show  them  the  Prince 
of  Life,  and  He,  being  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men 
unto  Him;  and  thus  the  truest  gospel  is  that  which 
declares  Christ  and  Him  crucified.  As  all  science 
springs  from  the  phenomena  of  the  external  world,  so 
do  theology  and  religion  spring  from  the  life  of  Him 
who  was  too  adorable  to  be  mortal,  and  too  loving  to 
be  disobeyed. 

Therefore  St.  Paul  declares  that  the  gospel  which  he 
preached  to  the  Corinthians  and  by  which  they  were 
saved,  was,  that  Christ  died  for  our  sins  and  wai 
buried  and  rose  again,  and  was  seen  of  sufficient 
witnesses  (i  Cor.  xv.   1-8). 

And  th^Tetore  St.  Mark  is  contented  with  a  very  brief 
record  ol  those  wondrous  years  ;  a  few  facts,  chosen 


MarkLl^.]     THE  BEGINNING   OF   THE   GOSPEL,  j 

with  a  keen  sense  of  the  intense  energy  and  burning 
force  which  they  reveal,  are  what  he  is  inspired  to  call 
the  gospel. 

He  presently  uses  the  word  in  a  somewhat  larger 
sense,  telling  how  Jesus  Himself,  before  the  story  of 
His  life  could  possibly  be  unfolded,  preached  as  "  the 
gospel  of  God  "  that  "  the  time  is  fulfilled,  and  the 
kingdom  of  God  is  at  hand,"  and  added  (what  St. 
Mark  only  has  preserved  for  us),  "  Repent,  and  believe 
in  the  gospel"  (i.  14-15).  So  too  it  is  part  of  St. 
Paul's  "  gospel  "  that  God  shall  judge  the  secrets  of  men 
by  Jesus  Christ  "  (Rom.  ii.  16).  For  this  also  is  good 
news  of  God,  "  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom."  And  like 
"  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,"  it  treats  of  His  attitude 
toward  us,  more  than  ours  toward  Him,  which  latter  is 
the  result  rather  than  the  substance  of  it.  That  He 
rules,  and  not  the  devil ;  that  we  ^hall  answer  at  last  to 
Him  and  to  none  lower;  that  Satan  lied  when  he 
claimed  to  possess  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  and  to 
dispose  of  them ;  that  Christ  has  now  received  from  far 
different  hands  "  all  power  on  earth  " ;  this  is  a  gospel 
which  the  world  has  not  yet  learned  to  welcome,  nor 
the  Church  fully  to  proclaim. 

Now  the  scriptural  use  of  this  term  is  quite  as  im- 
portant to  religious  emotion  as  to  accuracy  of  thought. 
All  true  emotions  hide  their  fountain  too  deep  for  self- 
consciousness  to  find.  We  feel  best  when  our  feeling 
is  forgotten.  Not  while  we  think  about  finding  peace, 
but  while  we  approach  God  as  a  Father,  and  are  anxious 
for  nothing,  but  in  everything  by  prayer  and  supplication 
with  thanksgiving  make  known  our  requests,  is  it 
promised  that  the  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all 
understanding  shall  guard  our  hearts  and  our  thoughts 
(Phil.  iv.  7).     And  many  a  soul  of  the  righteous,  whom 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK, 


faith  in  the  true  gospel  fills  with  trembling  adoration,  is 
made  sad  by  the  inflexible  demand  for  certain  realised 
personal  experiences  as  the  title  to  recognition  as  a 
Christian.  That  great  title  belonged  at  the  first  to  all 
who  would  learn  of  Jesus :  the  disciples  were  called 
Christians.  To  acquaint  ourselves  with  Him,  that  is 
to  be  at  peace. 

Meantime,  we  observe  that  the  new  movement  which 
now  begins  is  not,  hke  Judaism,  a  law  which  brings 
death  ;  nor  like  Buddhism,  a  path  in  which  one  must 
walk  as  best  he  may :  it  differs  from  all  other  systems 
in  being  essentially  the  announcement  of  good  tidings 
from  above. 

Yet  *'  the  beginning  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ " 
is  a  profound  agitation  and  widespread  alarm.  Lest  the 
soothing  words  of  Jesus  should  blend  like  music  with 
the  slumber  of  sinners  at  ease  in  Zion,  John  came 
preaching  repentance,  and  what  is  more,  a  baptism  of 
repentance  ;  not  such  a  lustration  as  was  most  familiar 
to  the  Mosaic  law,  administered  by  the  worshipper  to 
himself,  but  an  ablution  at  other  hands,  a  confession 
that  one  is  not  only  soiled,  but  soiled  beyond  all 
cleansing  of  his  own.  Formal  Judaism  was  one  long 
struggle  for  self-purification.  The  dawn  of  a  new 
system  is  visible  in  the  movement  of  all  Judaea  towards 
one  who  bids  them  throw  every  such  hope  away,  and 
come  to  him  for  the  baptism  of  repentance,  and  expect 
a  Greater  One,  who  shall  baptize  them  with  the  Holy 
Ghost  and  with  fire.  And  the  true  function  of  the 
predicted  herald,  the  best  levelling  of  the  rugged  ways 
of  humanity  for  the  Promised  One  to  traverse,  was  in 
this  universal  diffusion  of  the  sense  of  sin.  For  Christ 
was  not  come  to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners  to 
repentance. 


Mark  i.  1-6.]     THE  BEGINNING  OF   THE   GOSPEL,  5 

In  truth,  the  movement  of  the  Baptist,  with  its 
double  aspect,  gathers  up  all  the  teaching  of  the  past. 
He  produced  conviction,  and  he  promised  help.  One 
lesson  of  all  sacred  history  is  universal  failure.  The 
innocence  of  Eden  cannot  last.  The  law  with  its 
promise  of  life  to  the  man  who  doeth  these  things, 
issued  practically  in  the  knowledge  of  sin ;  it  entered 
that  sin  might  abound ;  it  made  a  formal  confession  of 
universal  sin,  year  by  year,  continually.  And  there- 
fore its  fitting  close  was  a  baptism  of  repentance 
universally  accepted.  Alas,  not  universally.  For 
while  we  read  of  all  the  nation  swayed  by  one  im- 
pulse, and  rushing  to  the  stern  teacher  who  had  no 
share  in  its  pleasures  or  its  luxuries,  whose  life  was 
separated  from  its  concerns,  and  whose  fpod  was  the 
simplest  that  could  sustain  existence,  yet  we  know  that 
when  they  heard  how  deep  his  censures  pierced,  and 
how  unsparingly  he  scourged  their  best  loved  sins,  the 
loudest  professors  of  religion  rejected  the  counsel  of 
God  against  themselves,  being  not  baptized  of  Him. 
Nevertheless,  by  coming  to  Him,  they  also  had  pleaded 
guilty.  Something  they  needed ;  they  were  sore  at 
heart,  and  would  have  welcomed  any  soothing  balm, 
although  they  refused  the  surgeon's  knife. 

The  law  did  more  than  convict  men ;  it  inspired  hope. 
The  promise  of  a  Redeemer  shone  like  a  rainbow 
across  the  dark  story  of  the  past.  He  was  the  end  of 
all  the  types,  at  once  the  Victim  and  the  Priest.  To 
Him  gave  all  the  prophets  witness,  and  the  Baptist 
brought  all  past  attainment  to  its  full  height,  and  was 
"  more  than  a  prophet "  when  he  announced  the  actual 
presence  of  the  Christ,  when  he  pointed  out  to  the  first 
two  Apostles,  the  Lamb  of  God. 


GOSPEL    OF  ST.   MARK, 


AT  THE  JORDAN. 

"  And  he  preached,  saying,  There  cometh  after  me  He  that  is  mightier 
than  I,  the  latchet  of  whose  shoes  I  am  not  worthy  to  stoop  down  and 
unloose.  I  baptized  you  with  water  ;  but  He  shall  baptize  you  with 
the  Holy  Ghost.  And  it  came  to  pass  in  those  days,  that  Jesus  came 
from  Nazareth  of  Galilee,  and  was  baptized  of  John  in  the  Jordan. 
And  straightway  coming  up  out  of  the  water,  He  saw  the  heavens  rent 
asunder,  and  the  Spirit  as  a  dove  descending  upon  Him  :  and  a  voice 
came  out  of  the  heavens.  Thou  art  My  Beloved  Son,  in  Thee  I  am 
well  pleased."— Mark  i.  7-1 1  (R.V.). 

It  was  when  all  men  mused  in  their  hearts  whether 
John  was  the  Christ  or  no,  that  he  announced  the 
coming  of  a  Stronger  One.  By  thus  promptly  silencing 
a  whisper,  so  honourable  to  himself,  he  showed  how 
strong  he  really  was,  and  how  unselfish  '*  a  friend  ol 
the  Bridegroom."  Nor  was  this  the  vague  humility  of 
phrase  which  is  content  to  be  lowly  in  general,  so  long 
as  no  specified  individual  stands  higher.  His  word  is 
definite,  and  accepts  much  for  himself.  *'  The  Stronger 
One  than  I  cometh,"  and  it  is  in  presence  of  the  might 
of  Jesus  (whom  yet  this  fiery  reformer  called  a  Lamb), 
that  he  feels  himself  unworthy  to  bend  to  the  dust  and 
unbind  the  latchets  or  laces  of  his  shoe. 

So  then,  though  asceticism  be  sometimes  good,  it  is 
consciously  not  the  highest  nor  the  most  effective 
goodness.  Perhaps  it  is  the  most  impressive.  With- 
out a  miracle,  the  preaching  of  John  shook  the  nation 
as  widely  as  that  of  Jesus  melted  it^  and  prepared 
men's  hearts  for  His.  A  king  consulted  and  feared 
him.  And  when  the  Pharisees  were  at  open  feud  with 
Jesus,  they  feared  to  be  stoned  if  they  should  pronounce 
John's  baptism  to  be  of  men. 

Yet   is   there  weakness   lurking   even   in   the   very 


Mark i.  7-1 1.]  AT  THE  JORDAN.  J 

quality  which  gives  asceticism  its  power.  That  stern 
seclusion  from  an  evil  world;  that  peremptory  denial 
of  its  charms,  why  are  they  so  impressive  ?  Because 
they  set  an  example  to  those  who  are  hard  beset,  of 
the  one  way  of  escape,  the  cutting  off  of  the  hand  and 
foot,  the  plucking  out  of  the  eye.  And  our  Lord 
enjoins  such  mutilation  of  the  life  upon  those  whom 
its  gifts  betray.  Yet  is  it  as  the  halt  and  maimed  that 
such  men  enter  into  life.  The  ascetic  is  a  man  who 
needs  to  sternly  repress  and  deny  his  impulses,  who 
is  conscious  of  traitors  within  his  breast  that  may 
revolt  if  the  enemy  be  suffered  to  approach  too  near. 

It  is  harder  to  be  a  holy  friend  of  publicans  and 
sinners,  a  witness  for  God  while  eating  and  drinking 
with  these,  than  to  remain  in  the  desert  undefiled.  It 
is  greater  to  convert  a  sinful  woman  in  familiar  con- 
verse by  the  well,  than  to  shake  trembling  multitudes 
by  threats  of  the  fire  for  the  chaff  and  the  axe  for  the 
barren  tree.  And  John  confessed  this.  In  the  supreme 
moment  of  his  life,  he  added  his  own  confession  to  that 
of  all  his  nation.  This  rugged  ascetic  had  need  to  be 
baptized  of  Him  who  came  eating  and  drinking. 

Nay,  he  taught  that  all  his  work  was  but  superficial, 
a  baptism  with  water  to  reach  the  surface  of  men's  life, 
to  check,  at  the  most,  exaction  and  violence  and 
neglect  of  the  wants  of  others,  while  the  Greater  One 
should  baptize  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  should  pierce 
the  depths  of  human  nature,  and  throughly  purge  His 
floor. 

Nothing  could  refute  more  clearly  than  our  three 
simple  narratives,  the  sceptical  notion  that  Jesus 
yielded  for  awhile  to  the  dominating  influence  of  the 
Baptist.  Only  from  the  Gospels  can  we  at  all  connect 
the  two.     And  what  we  read  here  is,  that  before  Jesus 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


came,  John  expected  his  Superior ;  that  when  they  met, 
John  declared  his  own  need  to  be  baptized  of  Him, 
that  he,  nevertheless,  submitted  to  the  will  of  Jesus, 
and  thereupon  heard  a  voice  from  the  heavens  which 
must  for  ever  have  destroyed  all  notion  of  equality ;  that 
afterwards  he  only  saw  Jesus  at  a  distance,  and  made 
a  confession  which  transferred  two  of  his  disciples  to 
our  Lord. 

The  criticism  which  transforms  our  Lord's  part  in 
these  events  to  that  of  a  pupil  is  far  more  wilful  than 
would  be  tolerated  in  dealing  with  any  other  record. 
And  it  too  palpably  springs  from  the  need  to  find  some 
human  inspiration  for  the  Word  of  God,  some  candle 
from  which  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  took  fire,  if  one 
would  escape  the  confession  that  He  is  not  of  this 
world. 

But  here  we  meet  a  deeper  question :  Not  why  Jesus 
accepted  baptism  from  an  inferior,  but  why,  being  sin- 
less, He  sought  for  a  baptism  of  repentance.  How  is 
this  act  consistent  with  absolute  and  stainless  purity  ? 

Now  it  sometimes  lightens  a  difficulty  to  find  that  it 
is  not  occasional  nor  accidental,  but  wrought  deep  into 
the  plan  of  a  consistent  work.  And  the  Gospels  are 
consistent  in  representing  the  innocence  of  Jesus  as 
refusing  immunity  from  the  consequences  of  guilt.  He 
was  circumcised,  and  His  mother  then  paid  the  offering 
commanded  by  the  law,  although  both  these  actions 
spoke  of  defilement.  In  submitting  to  the  Hkeness  of 
sinful  flesh  He  submitted  to  its  conditions.  He  was 
present  at  feasts  in  which  national  confessions  led  up 
to  sacrifice,  and  the  sacrificial  blood  was  sprinkled  to 
make  atonement  for  the  children  of  Israel,  because  of 
all  their  sins.  When  He  tasted  death  itself,  which 
passed  upon   all    men,  for  that   all  have  sinned,   He 


Mark L  7-1 1.]  AT  THE  JORDAN.  9 

carried  out  to  the  utmost  the  same  stem  rule  to  which 
at  His  baptism  He  consciously  submitted.  Nor  will 
any  theory  of  His  atonement  suffice,  which  is  content 
with  believing  that  His  humiliations  and  sufferings, 
though  inevitable,  were  only  collateral  results  of  con- 
tact with  our  fallen  race.  Baptism  was  avoidable,  and 
that  without  any  compromise  of  His  influence,  since  the 
Pharisees  refused  it  with  impunity,  and  John  would 
fain  have  exempted  Him.  Here  at  least  He  was  not 
"  entangled  in  the  machinery,"  but  deliberately  turned 
the  wheels  upon  Himself.  And  this  is  the  more  im- 
pressive because,  in  another  aspect  of  affairs,  He 
claimed  to  be  out  of  the  reach  of  ceremonial  defile- 
ment, and  touched  without  reluctance  disease,  leprosy 
and  the  dead. 

Humiliating  and  penal  consequences  of  sin,  to  these 
He  bowed  His  head.  Yet  to  a  confession  of  personal 
taint,  never.  And  all  the  accounts  agree  that  He  never 
was  less  conscience-stricken  than  when  He  shared  the 
baptism  of  repentance.  St.  Matthew  implies,  what  St. 
Luke  plainly  declares,  that  He  did  not  come  to  baptism 
along  with  the  crowds  of  penitents,  but  separately. 
And  at  the  point  where  all  others  made  confession,  in 
the  hour  when  even  the  Baptist,  although  filled  with 
the  Holy  Ghost  from  his  mother's  womb,  had  need  to 
be  baptized.  He  only  felt  the  propriety,  the  fitness  of 
fulfilling  all  righteousness.  That  mighty  task  was  not 
even  a  yoke  to  Him,  it  was  an  instinct  like  that  of 
beauty  to  an  artist,  it  was  what  became  Him. 

St.  Mark  omits  even  this  evidence  of  sinlessness. 
His  energetic  method  is  like  that  of  a  great  commander, 
who  seizes  at  all  costs  the  vital  point  upon  the  battle 
field.  He  constantly  omits  what  is  subordinate 
(although   very   conscious    of    the   power  of    graphic 


10  GOSPEL  OF  ST.   MARK, 

details),  when  by  so  doing  he  can  force  the  central 
thought  upon  the  mind.  Here  he  concentrates  our 
attention  upon  the  witness  from  above,  upon  the  rend- 
ing asunder  of  the  heavens  which  unfold  all  their 
heights  over  a  bended  head,  upon  the  visible  descent 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  His  fulness,  upon  the  voice  from 
the  heavens  which  pealed  through  the  souls  of  these 
two  peerless  worshippers,  and  proclaimed  that  He  who 
had  gone  down  to  the  baptismal  flood  was  no  sinner 
to  be  forgiven,  but  the  beloved  Son  of  God,  in  whom 
He  is  well  pleased. 

That  is  our  Evangelist's  answer  to  all  misunder- 
standing of  the  rite,  and  it  is  enough. 

How  do  men  think  of  heaven  ?  Perhaps  only  as  a 
remote  point  in  space,  where  flames  a  material  and 
solid  structure  into  which  it  is  the  highest  bliss  to 
enter.  A  place  there  must  be  to  which  the  Body 
of  our  Lord  ascended  and  whither  He  shall  yet  lead 
home  His  followers  in  spiritual  bodies  to  be  with  Him 
where  He  is.  If,  however,  only  this  be  heaven,  we 
should  hold  that  in  the  revolutions  of  the  solar  system 
it  hung  just  then  vertically  above  the  Jordan,  a  few 
fathoms  or  miles  aloft.  But  we  also  believe  in  a 
spiritual  city,  in  which  the  pillars  are  living  saints, 
an  all-embracing  blessedness  and  rapture  and  depth  of 
revelation,  whereinto  holy  mortals  in  their  highest 
moments  have  been  "caught  up,"  a  heaven  whose 
angels  ascend  and  descend  upon  the  Son  of  man.  In 
this  hour  of  highest  consecration,  these  heavens  were 
thrown  open — rent  asunder — for  the  gaze  of  our  Lord 
and  of  the  Baptist.  They  were  opened  again  when  the 
first  martyr  died.  And  we  read  that  what  eye  hath 
not  seen  nor  ear  heard  nor  heart  conceived  of  the 
preparation  of  God  for  them  that  love  Him,  He  hath 


Mark  i.  7- 1 1. ]  AT  THE  JORDAN.  1 1 


already  revealed  to  them  by  His  Spirit.  To  others 
there  is  only  cloud  or  "  the  infinite  azure,"  as  to  the 
the  crowd  by  the  Jordan  and  the  murderers  of  Stephen. 

Now  it  is  to  be  observed  that  we  never  read  of  Jesus 
being  caught  up  into  heaven  for  a  space,  like  St.  Paul 
or  St.  John.  What  we  read  is,  that  while  on  earth  the 
Son  of  man  is  in  Heaven  (John  iii.  1 3),*  for  heaven  is 
the  manifestation  of  God,  whose  truest  glory  was  re- 
vealed in  the  grace  and  truth  of  Jesus. 

Along  with  this  revelation,  the  Holy  Spirit  was  mani- 
fested wondrously.  His  appearance,  indeed,  is  quite 
unlike  what  it  was  to  others.  At  Pentecost  He  became 
visible,  but  since  each  disciple  received  only  a  portion, 
"according  to  his  several  ability,"  his  fitting  symbol 
was  "  tongues  parting  asunder  like  as  of  fire."  He 
came  as  an  element  powerful  and  pervasive,  not  as 
a  Personality  bestowed  in  all  His  vital  force  on  any 
one. 

So,  too,  the  phrase  which  John  used,  when  predicting 
that  Jesus  should  baptize  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  slightly 
though  it  differs  from  what  is  here,  implies  f  that 
only  a  portion  is  to  be  given,  not  the  fulness.  And 
the  angel  who  foretold  to  Zacharias  that  John  himself 
should  be  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  conveyed  the 
same  limitation  in  his  words.  John  received  all  that 
he  was  able  to  receive  :  he  was  filled.  But  how  should 
mortal  capacity  exhaust  the  fulness  of  Deity  ?  And 
Who  is  this,  upon  Whom,  while  John  is  but  an  awe- 
stricken  beholder,  the  Spirit  of  God  descends  in  all 
completeness,  a  living  organic  unity,  like  a  dove?  Only 
the  Infinite  is  capable  of  receiving  such  a  gift,  and  this 

•  Cf.  the  admirable  note  in  Archdeacon  Watkins*  "  Commentary  00 
John." 

t  By  the  absence  of  the  article  in  the  Greek. 


18  GOSPEL    OF  ST.   MARK. 

is  He  in  Whom  dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  God- 
head bodily.  No  wonder  then  that  "  in  bodily  form  " 
as  a  dove,  the  Spirit  of  God  descended  upon  Him 
alone.  Henceforward  He  became  the  great  Dispenser, 
and  "  the  Spirit  emanated  from  Him  as  perfume  from 
the  rose  when  it  has  opened." 

At  the  same  time  was  heard  a  Voice  from  heaven. 
And  the  bearing  of  this  passage  upon  the  Trinity 
becomes  clear,  when  we  combine  the  manifestation  of 
the  Spirit  in  living  Personality,  and  the  Divine  Voice, 
not  from  the  Dove  but  from  the  heavens,  with  the 
announcement  that  Jesus  is  not  merely  beloved  and 
well-pleasing,  but  a  Son,  and  in  this  high  sense  the 
only  Son,  since  the  words  are  literally  "  Thou  art  the 
Son  of  Me,  the  beloved."  And  yet  He  is  to  bring  many 
sons  unto  glory. 

Is  it  consistent  with  due  reverence  to  believe  that 
this  voice  conveyed  a  message  to  our  Lord  Himself? 
Even  so  liberal  a  critic  as  Neander  has  denied  this. 
But  if  we  grasp  the  meaning  of  what  we  believe,  that 
He  upon  taking  flesh  "emptied  Himself,"  that  He  in- 
creased in  wisdom  during  His  youth,  and  that  there 
was  a  day  and  hour  which  to  the  end  of  life  He  knew 
not,  we  need  not  suppose  that  His  infancy  was  so 
unchildlike  as  the  realisation  of  His  mysterious  and 
awful  Personality  would  make  it.  There  must  then 
have  been  a  period  when  His  perfect  human  develop- 
ment rose  up  into  what  Renan  calls  (more  accurately 
than  he  knows)  identification  of  Himself  with  the  object 
of  His  devotion,  carried  to  the  utmost  limit.  Nor  is 
this  period  quite  undiscoverable,  for  when  it  arrived  it 
would  seem  highly  unnatural  to  postpone  His  public 
ministry  further.  Now  this  reasonable  inference  is 
entirely  supported    by   the   narrative.      St.    Matthew 


Mark  L  12,  13.]  THE   TEMPTATION,  13 

indeed  regards  the  event  from  the  Baptist's  point  of 
vision.  But  St.  Mark  and  St.  Luke  are  agreed  that 
to  Jesus  Himself  it  was  also  said,  "  Thou  art  My 
beloved  Son."  Now  this  is  not  the  way  to  teach  us 
that  the  testimony  came  only  to  John.  And  how 
solemn  a  thought  is  this,  that  the  full  certitude  of  His 
destiny  expanded  before  the  eyes  of  Jesus,  just  when 
He  lifted  them  from  those  baptismal  waters  in  which 
He  stooped  so  low. 

THE   TEMPTATION. 

"  And  straightway  the  Spirit  driveth  Him  forth  into  the  wilderness. 
And  He  was  in  the  wilderness  forty  days  tempted  of  Satan  ;  and  He 
was  with  the  wild  beasts;  and  the  angels  ministered  unto  Him." — 
Mark  i.  12,  13  (R.V.). 

St.  Mark  has  not  recorded  the  details  of  our  Lord's 
temptations,  and  lays  more  stress  upon  the  duration 
of  the  struggle,  than  the  nature  of  the  last  and  crown- 
ing assaults.  But  he  is  careful,  like  the  others,  to 
connect  it  closely  with  the  baptism  of  Jesus,  and  the 
miraculous  testimony  then  borne  to  Him. 

It  is  indeed  instructive  that  He  should  have  suffered 
this  affront,  immediately  upon  being  recognised  as  the 
Messiah.  But  the  explanation  will  not  be  found  in 
the  notion,  which  Milton  has  popularised,  that  only 
new  Satan  was  assured  of  the  urgent  necessity  for 
attacking  Him : 

••That  heard  the  adversary  .  .  .  and  with  the  voice  Divine 

Nigh  thunderstruck,  the  exalted  Man,  to  whom 
Such  high  attest  was  given,  awhile  surveyed 
With  wonder." 

As  if  Satan  forgot  the  marvels  of  the  sacred  infancy. 
As  if  the  spirits  who  attack  all  could  have  failed  to 
identify,  after  thirty  years  of  defeat,  the  Greater  On© 


14  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

whom  the  Baptist  had  everywhere  proclaimed.  No. 
But  Satan  admirably  chose  the  time  for  a  supreme 
effort.  High  places  are  dizzy,  and  especially  when 
one  has  just  attained  them ;  and  therefore  it  was  when 
the  voice  of  the  herald  and  the  Voice  from  the 
heavens  were  blended  in  acclaim,  that  the  Evil  One 
tried  all  his  arts.  He  had  formerly  plunged  Elijah 
into  despair  and  a  desire  to  die,  immediately  after  fire 
from  heaven  responded  to  the  prophet's  prayer.  Soon 
after  this,  he  would  degrade  Peter  to  be  his  mouth- 
piece, just  when  his  noblest  testimony  was  borne,  and 
the  highest  approval  of  his  Lord  was  won.  In  the 
flush  of  their  triumphs  he  found  his  best  opportunity ; 
but  Jesus  remained  unflushed,  and  met  the  first 
recorded  temptation,  in  the  full  consciousness  of  Mes- 
siahship,  by  quoting  the  words  which  spoke  to  every 
man  alike,  and  as  man. 

It  is  a  lesson  which  the  weakest  needs  to  learn,  for 
little  victories  can  intoxicate  little  men. 

It  is  easy  then  to  see  why  the  recorded  temptations 
insist  upon  the  exceptional  dignity  of  Christ,  and  urge 
Him  to  seize  its  advantages,  while  He  insists  on 
bearing  the  common  burden,  and  proves  Himself 
greatest  by  becoming  least  of  all.  The  sharp  contrast 
between  His  circumstances  and  His  rank  drove  the 
temptations  deep  into  His  consciousness,  and  wounded 
His  sensibilities,  though  they  failed  to  shake  His 
will. 

How  unnatural  that  the  Son  of  God  should  lack  and 
suffer  hunger,  how  right  that  He  should  challenge 
recognition,  how  needful  (though  now  His  sacred 
Personality  is  cunningly  allowed  to  fall  somewhat  into 
the  background)  that  He  should  obtain  armies  and 
splendour. 


Marki.  12,  13.)  THE   TEMPTATION,  I| 

This  explains  the  possibility  of  temptation  in  a  sin-* 
less  nature,  which  indeed  can  only  be  denied  by 
assuming  that  sin  is  part  of  the  original  creation.  Not 
because  we  are  sinful,  but  because  we  are  flesh  and 
blood  (of  which  He  became  partaker),  when  we  feel 
the  pains  of  hunger  we  are  attracted  by  food,  at 
whatever  price  it  is  offered.  In  truth,  no  man  is 
allured  by  sin,  but  only  by  the  bait  and  bribe  of  sin, 
except  perhaps  in  the  last  stages  of  spiritual  decom- 
position. 

Now,  just  as  the  bait  allures,  and  not  the  jaws  of 
the  trap,  so  the  power  of  a  temptation  is  not  its 
wickedness,  not  the  guilty  service,  but  the  proffered 
recompense ;  and  this  appeals  to  the  most  upright 
man,  equally  with  the  most  corrupt.  Thus  the  stress 
of  a  temptation  is  to  be  measured  by  our  gravitation, 
not  towards  fehe  sin,  but  towards  the  pleasure  or 
advantage  which  is  entangled  with  that.  And  this 
may  be  realised  even  more  powerfully  by  a  man  of 
keen  feeling  and  vivid  imagination  who  does  not  falter, 
than  by  a  grosser  nature  which  succumbs. 

Now  Jesus  was  a  perfect  man.  To  His  exquisite 
sensibilities,  which  had  neither  inherited  nor  contracted 
any  blemish,  the  pain  of  hunger  at  the  opening  of  His 
ministry,  and  the  horror  of  the  cross  at  its  close,  were 
not  less  intense,  but  sharper  than  to  ours.  And  this 
pain  and  horror  measured  the  temptation  to  evade 
them.  The  issue  never  hung  in  the  scales;  even  to 
hesitate  would  have  been  to  forfeit  the  deUcate  bloom 
of  absolute  sinlessness  ;  but,  none  the  less,  the  decision 
was  costly,  the  temptation  poignant. 

St.  Mark  has  given  us  no  details;  but  there  is 
Immense  and  compressed  power  in  the  assertion,  only 
his,  that  the  temptation  lasted  all   through  the  forty 


i6  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

days.  We  know  the  power  of  an  unremitting  pressure, 
an  incessant  importunity,  a  haunting  thought.  A  very 
trifling  annoyance,  long  protracted,  drives  men  to 
strange  remedies.  And  the  remorseless  urgency  of 
Satan  may  be  measured  by  what  St.  Matthew  tells  us, 
that  only  after  the  forty  days  Jesus  became  aware  of 
the  pains  of  hunger.  Perhaps  the  assertion  that  He 
was  with  the  wild  beasts  may  throw  some  ray  of  light 
upon  the  nature  of  the  temptation.  There  is  no  in- 
timation of  bodily  peril.  On  the  other  hand  it  seems 
incredible  that  what  is  hinted  is  His  own  consciousness 
of  the  supernatural  dignity  from  which 

**  The  fiery  serpent  fled,  and  noxious  worm  ) 
The  lion  and  fierce  tiger  glared  aloof." 

Such  a  consciousness  would  have  relieved  the  strain 
of  which  their  presence  is  evidently  a  part.  Nay, 
but  the  oppressive  solitude,  the  waste  region  so  unlike 
His  blooming  Nazareth,  and  the  ferocity  of  the  brute 
creation,  all  would  conspire  to  suggest  those  dread 
misgivings  and  questionings  which  are  provoked  by 
*'  the  something  that  infects  the  world." 

Surely  we  may  believe  that  He  Who  was  tempted 
at  all  points  like  as  we  are,  felt  now  the  deadly  chill 
which  falls  upon  the  soul  from  the  shadow  of  our 
ruined  earth.  In  our  nature  He  bore  the  assault  and 
overcame.  And  then  His  human  nature  condescended 
to  accept  help,  such  as  ours  receives,  from  the  minis- 
tering spirits  which  are  sent  forth  to  minister  to  them 
that  shall  be  heirs  of  salvation.  So  perfectly  was  He 
made  like  unto  His  brethren* 


M«rki.  l4-2a]  EARLY  PREACHING.  17 


THR  EARLY  PREACHING  AND  THE  FIRST  DISCIPLES. 

"Now  after  that  John  was  delivereJ  up,  Jesus  came  into  Galilee 
preaching  the  gospel  of  God,  and  saying,  The  time  is  fulfilled,  and  the 
kingdom  of  God  is  at  hand  :  repent  ye,  and  believe  in  the  gospel.  And 
passing  along  by  the  sea  of  Galilee,  He  saw  Simon  and  Andrew  the 
brother  of  Simon  casting  a  net  in  the  sea  ;  for  they  were  fishers.  And 
Jesus  said  unto  them,  Come  ye  after  Me,  and  I  will  make  you  to  be- 
come fishers  of  men.  And  straightway  they  left  the  nets,  and  followed 
Him.  And  going  on  a  little  further,  He  saw  James  the  son  of  Zcbedee, 
and  John  his  brother,  vvho  also  were  in  the  boat  mending  the  nets.  And 
straightway  He  called  them :  and  they  left  their  father  Zebedee  in  the  boat 
with  the  hired  servants,  and  went  after  Him." — Mark  i.  14-20  (R.V.). 

St.  Mark  has  shown  us  the  Baptist  proclaiming  Christ. 
He  now  tells  us  that  when  John  was  imprisoned, 
Jesus,  turning  from  that  Judean  ministry  which 
stirred  the  jealousy  of  John's  disciples  (John  iii.  26), 
**  came  into  Galilee,  preaching."  And  one  looks  twice 
before  observing  that  His  teaching  is  a  distinct  advance 
upon  the  herald's.  Men  are  still  to  repent ;  for  how- 
ever slightly  modern  preachers  may  heal  the  hurt  of 
souls,  real  contrition  is  here  taken  over  into  the  gospel 
scheme.  But  the  time  which  was  hitherto  said  to 
be  at  hand  is  now  fulfilled.  And  they  are  not  only 
to  believe  the  gospel,  but  to  "  believe  in  it."  Reliance, 
the  effort  of  the  soul  by  which  it  ceases  equally  to  be 
self-confident  and  to  despair,  confiding  itself  to  som^ 
word  which  is  a  gospel,  or  some  being  who  has 
salvation  to  bestow,  that  is  belief  in  its  object.  And 
it  is  highly  important  to  observe  that  faith  is  thus 
made  prominent  so  early  in  our  Lord's  teaching.  The 
vitalizing  power  of  faith  was  no  discovery  of  St.  Paul  ; 
it  was  not  evolved  by  devout  meditation  after  Jesus 
had  passed  from  view,  nor  introduced  into  His  system 
when  opposition  forced  Him  to  bind  men  to  Him  in  u 

2 


X8  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

Stronger  allegiance.  The  power  of  faith  is  implied  in 
His  earliest  preaching,  and  it  is  connected  with  His 
earliest  miracles.  But  no  such  phrase  as  the  power  of 
faith  is  ever  used.  Faith  is  precious  only  as  it  leans 
on  what  is  trustworthy.  And  it  is  produced,  not  by 
thinking  of  faith  itself,  but  of  its  proper  object.  There- 
fore Christ  did  not  come  preaching  faith,  but  preaching 
the  gospel  of  God,  and  bidding  men  believe  in  that. 

Shall  we  not  follow  His  example  ?  It  is  morally 
certain  that  Abraham  never  heard  of  salvation  by  faith, 
yet  he  was  justified  by  faith  when  he  believed  in  Him 
Who  justifieth  the  ungodly.  To  preach  Him,  and  His 
gospel,  is  the  way  to  lead  men  to  be  saved  by  faith. 

Few  things  are  more  instructive  to  consider  than 
the  slow,  deUberate,  yet  firm  steps  by  which  Christ 
advanced  to  the  revelation  of  God  in  flesh.  Thirty 
years  of  silence,  forty  days  of  seclusion  after  heaven 
had  proclaimed  Him,  leisurely  intercourse  with  Andrew 
and  John,  Peter  and  Nathanael,  and  then  a  brief 
ministry  in  a  subject  nation,  and  chiefly  in  a  despised 
province.  It  is  not  the  action  of  a  fanatic.  It  exactly 
fulfils  His  own  description  of  the  kingdom  which  He 
proclaimed,  which  was  to  exhibit  first  the  blade,  then 
the  ear,  then  the  full  corn  in  the  ear.  And  it  is  a 
lesson  to  all  time,  that  the  boldest  expectations  possible 
to  faith  do  not  justify  feverish  haste  and  excited  long- 
ings for  immediate  prominence  or  immediate  success. 
The  husbandman  who  has  long  patience  with  the  seed 
is  not  therefore  hopeless  of  the  harvest. 

Passing  by  the  sea  of  Galilee,  Jesus  finds  two  fisher- 
men at  their  toil,  and  bids  them  follow  Him.  Both  are 
men  of  decided  and  earnest  character;  one  is  to  become 
the  spokesman  and  leader  of  the  Apostolic  band,  and 
the  little  which  is  recorded  of  the  other  indicates  the 


Mark i.  I4-20.]  ilARLY  PREACHING.  19 

same  temperament,  somewhat  less  developed.  Our 
Lord  now  calls  upon  them  to  take  a  decided  step.  But 
here  again  we  find  traces  of  the  same  deliberate  pro- 
gression, the  same  absence  of  haste,  as  in  His  early 
preaching.  He  does  not,  as  unthinking  readers  fancy, 
come  upon  two  utter  strangers,  fascinate  and  arrest  them 
in  a  moment,  and  sweep  their  lives  into  the  vortex  of  His 
own.  Andrew  had  already  heard  the  Baptist  proclaim 
the  Lamb  of  God,  had  followed  Jesus  home,  and  had  in- 
troduced his  brother,  to  whom  Jesus  then  gave  the  new 
name  Cephas.  Their  faith  had  since  been  confirmed  by 
miracles.  The  demands  of  our  Lord  may  be  trying,  but 
they  are  never  unreasonable,  and  the  faith  He  claims  is 
not  a  blind  credulity. 

Nor  does  He,  even  now,  finally  and  entirely  call 
them  away  from  their  occupation.  Some  time  is  still 
to  elapse,  and  a  sign,  especially  impressive  to  fisher- 
men, the  miraculous  draught  of  fishes,  is  to  burn  into 
their  minds  a  profound  sense  of  their  unworthiness, 
before  the  vocation  now  promised  shall  arrive.  Then 
He  will  say.  From  henceforth  ye  shall  catch  men  :  now 
He  says,  I  will  prepare  you  for  that  future,  I  will  make 
you  to  become  fishers  of  men.  So  ungrounded  is  the 
suspicion  of  any  confusion  between  the  stories  of  the 
three  steps  by  which  they  rose  to  their  Apostleship. 

A  little  further  on.  He  finds  the  two  sons  of  Zebedee, 
and  calls  them  also.  John  had  almost  certainly  been 
the  companion  of  Andrew  when  he  followed  Jesus 
home,  and  his  brother  had  become  the  sharer  of  his 
hopes.  And  if  there  were  any  hesitation,  the  example 
of  their  comrades  helped  them  to  decide — so  soon,  so 
inevitably  does  each  disciple  begin  to  be  a  fisher  of  other 
men — and  leaving  their  father,  as  we  are  gracefully  told, 
not  desolate,  but  with  servants,  they  also  follow  Jesus, 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 


Thus  He  asks,  from  each  group,  the  sacrifice  involvs^i 
in  following  Him  at  an  inconvenient  time.  The  firs»t 
are  casting  their  nets  and  eager  in  their  quest.  The 
others  are  mending  their  nets,  perhaps  after  some  large 
draught  had  broken  them.  So  Levi  was  sitting  at  the 
receipt  of  toll.  Not  one  of  the  Twelve  was  choiien 
to  that  high  rank  when  idle. 

Very  charming,  very  powerful  still  is  the  spell  by 
which  Christ  drew  His  first  apostles  to  His  side. 
Not  yet  are  they  told  anything  of  thrones  on  v/hich 
they  are  to  sit  and  judge  the  tribes  of  Israel,  or  that 
their  names  shall  be  engraven  on  the  foundations  of 
the  heavenly  city  besides  being  great  on  earth  while 
the  world  stands.  For  them,  the  capture  of  men  was 
less  lucrative  than  that  of  fish,  and  less  honourable, 
for  they  suffered  the  loss  of  all  things  and  were  made 
as  the  filth  of  the  earth.  To  learn  Christ's  .Art,  to  be 
made  helpful  in  drawing  souls  to  Him,  following  Jesus 
and  catching  men,  this  was  enough  to  attract  His  first 
ministers ;  God  grant  that  a  time  may  never  come 
when  ministers  for  whom  this  is  enough,  shall  fail. 
Where  the  spirit  of  self  devotion  is  absent  how  can 
the  Spirit  of  Christ  exist  ? 

TEACHING   WITH  AUTHORITY, 

**  And  they  go  into  Capernaum  ;  and  straightway  on  the  sabbath 
day  He  entered  into  the  synagogue  and  taught.  And  they  were  aston- 
ished at  His  teaching  :  for  He  taught  them  as  having  authority,  and 
not  as  the  scribes." — Mark  i.  ai,  22  (R.V.). 

The  worship  of  the  synagogues,  not  having  been 
instituted  by  Moses,  but  gradually  developed  by  the 
public  need,  w^as  comparatively  free  and  unconven- 
tional.    Sometimes  it    happened  that  remarkable  and 


Mark  i.  21,  22.]     TEACHING    WITH  AUTHORITY,  %\ 

serious-looking  strangers  were  invited,  if  they  had  any 
word  of  exhortation,  to  say  on  (Acts  xiii.  1 5).  Some- 
times one  presented  himself,  as  the  custom  of  our  Lord 
was  (Luke  iv.  16).  Amid  the  dull  mechanical  ten- 
dencies which  were  then  turning  the  heart  of  Judaism 
to  stone,  the  synagogue  may  have  been  often  a  centre 
of  life  and  rallying-place  of  freedom.  In  Galilee,  where 
such  worship  predominated  over  that  of  the  remote 
Temple  and  its  hierarchy,  Jesus  found  His  trusted 
followers  and  the  nucleus  of  the  Church.  In  foreign 
lands,  St.  Paul  bore  first  to  his  brethren  in  their  syna- 
gogues the  strange  tidings  that  their  Messiah  had 
expired  upon  a  cross.  And  before  His  rupture  with 
the  chiefs  of  Judaism,  the  synagogues  were  fitting 
places  for  our  Lord's  early  teaching.  He  made  use  of 
the  existing  system,  and  applied  it,  just  as  we  have 
seen  Him  use  the  teaching  of  the  Baptist  as  a  starting- 
point  for  His  own.  And  this  ought  to  be  observed,  that 
Jesus  revolutionized  the  world  by  methods  the  furthest 
from  being  revolutionary.  The  institutions  of  His  age 
and  land  were  corrupt  well-nigh  to  the  core,  but  He 
did  not  therefore  make  a  clean  sweep,  and  begin  again. 
He  did  not  turn  His  back  on  the  Temple  and  synagogues, 
nor  outrage  sabbaths,  nor  come  to  destroy  the  law  and 
the  prophets.  He  bade  His  followers  reverence  the 
seat  where  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  sat,  and  drew  the 
line  at  their  false  lives  and  perilous  examples.  Amid 
that  evil  generation  He  found  soil  wherein  His  seed 
might  germinate,  and  was  content  to  hide  His  leaven 
in  the  lump  where  it  should  gradually  work  out  its 
destiny.  In  so  doing  He  was  at  one  with  Providence, 
which  had  slowly  evolved  the  convictions  of  the  Old 
Testament,  spending  centuries  upon  the  process.  Now 
the    power   which    belongs   to   such   moderation   has 


GOSPEL   OF  ST,  MARK, 


scarcely  been  recognised  until  these  latter  days.  The 
political  sagacity  of  Somers  and  Burke,  and  the  eccle- 
siastical wisdom  of  our  own  reformers,  had  their  occult 
and  unsuspected  fountains  in  the  method  by  which 
Jesus  planted  the  kingdom  which  came  not  with  obser- 
vation. But  who  taught  the  Carpenter  ?  It  is  there- 
fore significant  that  all  the  Gospels  of  the  Galilean 
ministry  connect  our  Lord's  early  teaching  with  the 
synagogue. 

St.  Mark  is  by  no  means  the  evangelist  of  the  dis- 
courses. And  this  adds  to  the  interest  with  which  we 
find  him  indicate,  with  precise  exactitude,  the  first 
great  difference  that  would  strike  the  hearers  of  Christ 
between  His  teaching  and  that  of  others.  He  taught 
with  authority,  and  not  as  the  scribes.  Their  doc- 
trine was  built  with  dreary  and  irrational  ingenuity, 
upon  perverted  views  of  the  old  law.  The  shape 
of  a  Hebrew  letter,  words  whereof  the  initals  would 
spell  some  important  name,  wire-drawn  inferences, 
astounding  allusions,  ingenuity  such  as  men  waste  now 
upon  the  number  of  the  beast  and  the  measurement  of 
a  pyramid,  these  were  the  doctrine  of  the  scribes. 

And  an  acute  observer  would  remark  that  the  authority 
of  Christ's  teaching  was  peculiar  in  a  farther-reaching 
sense.  If,  as  seems  clear,  Jesus  said,  "  Ye  have  heard 
that  it  hath  been  said "  (not  "  by,"  but)  "  to  them 
of  old  time,  but  I  say  unto  you,"  He  then  claimed  the 
place,  not  of  Moses  who  heard  the  Divine  Voice,  but  of 
Him  Who  spoke.  Even  if  this  could  be  doubted,  the 
same  spirit  is  elsewhere  unmistakable.  The  tables 
which  Moses  brought  were  inscribed  by  the  finger  of 
Another :  none  could  make  him  the  Supreme  arbitrator 
while  overhead  the  trumpet  waxed  louder  and  louder, 
while  the  fiery  pillar  marshalled  their  journeying,  while 


Mark i.  21,22.)     TEACHING    WITH  AUTHORITY,  23 

the  mysterious  Presence  consecrated  the  mysterious 
shrine.  Prophet  after  prophet  opened  and  closed  his 
message  with  the  words,  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord."  .  .  . 
"  For  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken  it."  Jesus 
was  content  with  the  attestation,  "  Verily,  I  say  unto 
you."  Blessed  as  a  wise  builder  was  the  hearer  and  doer 
of  "  these  words  of  Mine."  Everywhere  in  His  teaching 
the  centre  of  authority  is  personal.  He  distinctly  recog- 
nises the  fact  that  He  is  adding  to  the  range  of  the 
ancient  law  of  respect  for  human  life,  and  for  purity, 
veracity  and  kindness.  But  He  assigns  no  authority 
for  these  additions,  beyond  His  own.  Persecution  by 
all  men  is  a  blessed  thing  to  endure,  if  it  be  for  His 
sake  and  the  gospel's.  Now  this  is  unique.  Moses 
or  Isaiah  never  dreamed  that  devotion  to  himself  took 
rank  with  devotion  to  his  message.  Nor  did  St.  Paul. 
But  Christ  opens  His  ministry  with  the  same  pretensions 
as  at  the  close,  when  others  may  not  be  called  Rabbi, 
nor  Master,  because  these  titles  belong  to  Him. 

And  the  lapse  of  ages  renders  this  ** authority"  of 
Christ  more  wonderful  than  at  first.  The  world  bows 
down  before  something  other  than  His  clearness  of 
logic  or  subtlety  of  inference.  He  still  announces  where 
others  argue,  He  reveals,  imposes  on  us  His  supre- 
macy, bids  us  take  His  yoke  and  learn.  And  we  still 
discover  in  His  teaching  a  freshness  and  profundity, 
a  universal  reach  of  application  and  yet  an  unearthli- 
ness  of  aspect,  which  suit  so  unparalleled  a  claim. 
Others  have  constructed  cisterns  in  which  to  store 
truth,  or  aqueducts  to  convey  it  from  higher  levels. 
Christ  is  Himself  a  fountain;  and  not  only  so,  but  the 
water  which  He  gives,  when  received  aright,  becomes 
in  the  faith fjl  heart  a  well  of  water  springing  up  in 
new,  inexha  istible  developments. 


GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK. 


MIRACLES, 

"  And  straightway  there  was  in  their  synagogue  a  man  with  an  on* 
clean  spirit."— Mark  i.  23  (R.V.). 

We  have  just  read  that  Christ's  teaching  astonished 
the  hearers.  He  was  about  to  astonish  them  yet 
more,  for  we  have  now  reached  the  first  miracle  which 
St.  Mark  records.  With  what  sentiments  should  such 
a  narrative  be  approached  ?  The  evangelist  connects 
it  emphatically  with  Christ's  assertion  of  authority. 
Immediately  upon  the  impression  which  His  manner 
of  teaching  produced,  straightway,  there  was  in  the 
synagogue  a  man  with  an  unclean  spirit.  And  upon 
its  expulsion,  what  most  impressed  the  people  was, 
that  as  He  taught  with  authority,  so  *'  with  authority 
He  commandeth  even  the  unclean  spirits,  and  they 
obey  Him." 

Let  us  try  whether  this  may  not  be  a  providential 
clue,  to  guide  us  amid  the  embarrassments  which 
beset,  in  our  day,  the  whole  subject  of  miracles. 

A  miracle,  we  are  told,  is  an  interference  with  the 
laws  of  nature ;  and  it  is  impossible,  because  they  are 
fixed  and  their  operation  is  uniform.  But  these  bold 
words  need  not  disconcert  any  one  who  has  learned 
to  ask.  In  what  sense  are  the  operations  of  nature 
uniform  ?  Is  the  operation  of  the  laws  which  govern 
the  wind  uniform,  whether  my  helm  is  to  port  or  star- 
board ?  Can  I  not  modify  the  operation  of  sanitary 
laws  by  deodorization,  by  drainage,  by  a  thousand 
resources  of  civilization?  The  truth  is,  that  while 
natural  laws  remain  fixed,  human  intelligence  pro- 
foundly modifies  their  operation.  How  then  will  the 
objector  prove  that  no  higher  Being  can  as  nati^irallv 


Mark  i.  23.]  MIRACLES.  15 

do  the  same  ?     He  answers,  Because  the   sum   total 

of  the  forces  of  nature  is  a  fixed  quantity  :  nothing 
can  b<  added  to  that  sum,  nothing  taken  from  it: 
the  energy  of  all  our  machinery  existed  ages  ago  in 
the  heat  of  tropical  suns,  then  in  vegetation,  and  ever 
since,  though  latent,  in  our  coal  beds ;  and  the  claim 
to  add  anything  to  that  total  is  subversive  of  modern 
science.  But  again  we  ask,  If  the  physician  adds 
nothing  to  the  sum  of  forces  when  he  banishes  one 
disease  by  inoculation,  and  another  by  draining  a 
marsh,  why  must  Jesus  have  added  to  the  sum  of 
forces  in  order  to  expel  a  demon  or  to  cool  a  fever? 
It  will  not  suffice  to  answer,  because  His  methods  are 
contrary  to  experience.  Beyond  experience  they  are. 
But  so  were  the  marvels  of  electricity  to  our  parents 
and  of  steam  to  theirs.  The  chemistry  which  analyses 
the  stars  is  not  incredible,  although  thirty  years  ago 
its  methods  were  "  contrary "  to  the  universal  experi- 
ence of  humanity.  Man  is  now  doing  what  he  never 
did  before,  because  he  is  a  more  skilful  and  better 
informed  agent  than  he  ever  was.  Perhaps  at  this 
moment,  in  the  laboratory  of  some  unknown  student, 
some  new  force  is  preparing  to  amaze  the  world.  But 
the  sum  of  the  forces  of  nature  will  remain  unchanged. 
Why  is  it  assumed  that  a  miracle  must  change  them  ? 
Simply  because  men  have  already  denied  God,  or  at 
least  denied  that  He  is  present  within  His  world,  as 
truly  as  the  chemist  is  within  it.  If  we  think  of  Him 
as  interrupting  its  processes  from  without,  laying  upon 
the  vast  machine  so  powerful  a  grasp  as  to  arrest  its 
working,  then  indeed  the  sum  of  forces  is  disturbed, 
and  the  complaints  of  science  are  justified.  This  may, 
or  it  may  not,  have  been  the  case  in  creative  epochs, 
of  which  science  knows  no  more  than  of  the  beginning 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


of  life  and  of  consciousness.  But  it  has  nothing  to  say 
against  the  doctrine  of  the  miracles  of  Jesus.  For  this 
doctrine  assumes  that  God  is  ever  present  in  His  uni- 
verse; that  by  Him  all  things  consist;  that  He  is  not 
far  from  any  one  of  us,  for  in  Him  we  live  and  move 
and  have  our  being,  although  men  may  be  as  uncon- 
scious of  Him  as  of  gravitation  and  electricity.  When 
these  became  known  to  man,  the  stability  of  law  was  un- 
affected. And  it  is  a  wild  assumption  that  if  a  supreme 
and  vital  force  exist,  a  living  God,  He  cannot  make  His 
energies  visible  without  affecting  the  stability  of  law. 

Now  Christ  Himself  appeals  expressly  and  repeatedly 
to  this  immanent  presence  of  God  as  the  explanation 
of  His  "  works." 

"  My  Father  worketh  hitherto,  and  I  work."  "  The 
Father  loveth  the  Son,  and  showeth  Him  all  things 
that  Himself  doeth."  "  I,  by  the  finger  of  God,  cast  out 
devils." 

Thus  a  miracle,  even  in  the  Old  Testament,  is  not 
an  interruption  of  law  by  God,  but  a  manifestation  of 
God  who  is  within  nature  always ;  to  common  events 
it  is  as  the  lightning  to  the  cloud,  a  revelation  of  the 
electricity  which  was  already  there.  God  was  made 
known,  when  invoked  by  His  agents,  in  signs  from 
heaven,  in  fire  and  tempest,  in  drought  and  pestilence, 
a  God  who  judgeth.  These  are  the  miracles  of  God 
interposing  for  His  people  against  their  foes.  But  the 
miracles  of  Christ  are  those  of  God  carrying  forward 
to  the  uttermost  His  presence  in  the  world,  God  mani- 
fest in  the  flesh.  They  are  the  works  of  Him  in  Wbora 
dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily. 

And  this  explains  what  would  otherwise  be  so  per- 
plexing, the  essentially  different  nature  of  His  miracles 
from  those  of  the  Old  Testament.     Infidelity  pretends 


Mark  L  23.]  MIRACLES,  ^ 

that  those  are  the  models  on  which  myth  or  legend 
formed  the  miracles  of  Jesus,  but  the  plain  answer  is 
that  they  are  built  on  no  model  of  the  kind.  The 
difference  is  so  great  as  to  be  startling. 

Tremendous  convulsions  and  visitations  of  wrath  are 
now  unknown,  because  God  is  now  reconciling  the 
world  unto  Himself,  and  exhibiting  in  miracles  the  pre- 
sence of  Him  Who  is  not  far  from  every  one  of  us.  His 
presence  in  love  to  redeem  the  common  life  of  man,  and 
to  bless,  by  sharing  it  Therefore  His  gifts  are  homely, 
they  deal  with  average  life  and  its  necessities,  bread 
and  wine  and  fish  are  more  to  the  purpose  than  that 
man  should  eat  angels'  food,  the  rescue  of  storm-tossed 
fishermen  than  the  engulfment  of  pursuing  armies,  the 
healing  of  prevalent  disease  than  the  plaguing  of  Egypt 
or  the  destruction  of  Sennacherib. 

Such  a  Presence  thus  manifested  is  the  consistent 
doctrine  of  the  Church.  It  is  a  theory  which  men  may 
reject  at  their  own  peril  if  they  please.  But  they  must 
not  pretend  to  refute  it  by  any  appeal  to  either  the 
uniformity  of  law  or  the  stability  of  force. 

Men  tell  us  that  the  divinity  of  Jesus  was  an  after- 
thought ;  what  shall  we  say  then  to  this  fact,  that  men 
observed  from  the  very  first  a  difference  between  the 
manner  of  His  miracles  and  all  that  was  recorded  in 
their  Scriptures,  or  that  they  could  have  deemed  fit  ? 
It  is  exactly  the  same  peculiarity,  carried  to  the  highest 
pitcl  as  they  already  felt  in  His  discourses.  They  are 
wrought  without  any  reference  whatever  to  a  superior 
will.  Moses  cried  unto  the  Lord,  saying,  What  shall 
I  do  ?  Elijah  said,  Hear  me  O  Lord,  hear  me.  But 
Jesus  said,  I  will  ...  I  charge  thee  come  out  ...  1 
am  able  to  do  this.  And  so  marked  is  the  change,  that 
even   His  followers  cast  out  devils  in  His  name,  and 


SS  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

say  not,  Where  is  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  ?  but,  In  the 
Name  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Nazareth.  His  power  is 
inherent,  it  is  self-possessed,  and  His  acts  in  the 
synoptics  are  only  explained  by  His  words  in  St.  John, 
"  What  things  soever  the  Father  doeth,  these  the  Son 
also  doeth  in  like  manner."  No  wonder  that  St.  Mark 
adds  to  His  very  first  record  of  a  miracle,  that  the 
people  were  amazed,  and  asked,  What  is  this  ?  a  new 
teaching  I  with  authority  He  commandeth  even  the 
unclean  spirits  and  they  do  obey  Him !  It  was 
divinity  which,  without  recognising,  they  felt,  implicit 
in  His  bearing.  No  wonder  also  that  His  enemies 
strove  hard  to  make  Him  say.  Who  gave  Thee  this 
authority  ?  Nor  could  they  succeed  in  drawing  from 
Him  any  sign  from  heaven.  The  centre  and  source 
of  the  supernatural,  for  human  apprehension,  has 
shifted  itself,  and  the  vision  of  Jesus  is  the  vision  of 
the  Father  also, 

THE  DEMONIAC, 

"  And  straightway  there  was  in  their  synagogue  a  man  with  an 
unclean  spirit ;  and  he  cried  out,  saying,  What  have  we  to  do  with 
Thee,  Thou  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ?  art  Thou  come  to  destroy  us  ?  I 
know  Thee  Who  Thou  art,  the  Holy  One  of  God.  And  Jesus  rebuked 
him,  saying.  Hold  thy  peace,  and  come  out  of  him.  And  the  unclean 
spirit,  tearing  him  and  crying  with  a  loud  voice,  came  out  of  him.  And 
they  were  all  amazed,  insomuch  that  they  questioned  among  them- 
selves, saying,  What  is  this  ?  a  new  teaching  !  with  authority  He  com- 
mandeth even  the  unclean  spirits,  and  they  obey  Him.  And  the 
report  of  Him  went  out  straightway  everywhere  into  all  the  region  oi 
Galilee  round  about." — Mark  i.  23-28  (R.V  ). 

We  have  seen  that  belief  in  the  stability  of  natural  law 
does  not  forbid  us  to  believe  in  miracles. 

Special  objections  are  urged,  however,  against  the 
belief  in  demoniacal  possession.     The  very  existence  o! 


Mark  i.  23-28.]  THE  DEMONIAC. 


demons  is  declared  to  be  inconsistent  with  the  omni- 
potence of  God,  or  els'--  with  His  goodness. 

And  it  may  be  granted  that  abstract  reasoning  in 
an  ideal  world,  thought  moving  in  a  vacuum,  would 
scarcely  evolve  a  state  of  things  so  far  removed  from 
the  ideal.  This,  however,  is  an  argument  against  the 
existence,  not  of  demons,  but  of  evil  in  any  shape.  It 
is  the  familiar  insoluble  problem  of  all  religions.  How 
can  evil  exist  in  the  universe  of  God  ?  And  it  is 
balanced  by  the  insoluble  problem  of  all  irreligious 
systems :  In  a  universe  without  God,  how  can  either 
good  or  evil  exist,  as  distinguished  from  the  advan- 
tageous and  the  unprofitable  ?  Whence  comes  the  un- 
questionable difference  between  a  lie  and  a  bad  bargain  ? 

But  the  argument  against  evil  spirits  professes  to  be 
something  more  than  a  disguised  reproduction  of  this 
abstract  problem.  What  more  is  it  ?  What  is  gained 
by  denying  the  fiends,  as  long  as  we  cannot  deny  the 
fiends  incarnate — the  men  who  take  pleasure  in  un- 
righteousness, in  the  seduction  and  ruin  of  their 
fellows,  in  the  infliction  of  torture  and  outrage,  in  the 
ravage  and  desolation  of  nations  ?  Such  freedom  has 
been  granted  to  the  human  will,  for  even  these 
ghastly  issues  have  not  been  judged  so  deadly  as 
coercion  and  moral  fatalism.  What  presumption  can 
possibly  remain  against  the  existence  of  other  beings 
than  men,  who  have  fallen  yet  farther  ?  If,  indeed, 
it  be  certainly  so  much  farther.  For  we  know  that 
men  have  lived,  not  outcasts  from  society,  but  boastful 
sons  of  Abraham,  who  willed  to  perform  the  lusts 
{jh>%  eiriBv^la^i)  of  their  father  the  devil.  Now  since  we 
are  not  told  that  the  wickedness  of  demons  is  infinite,* 

*  The  opposite  is  asserted  by  the  fact  that  one  demon  may  ally 
himself  with  seven  others  worse. 


$0  GOSPEL   OF  ST,  MARK. 

bit  only  that  it  is  abysrial,  and  since  we  know  that 
abysses  of  wickedness  do  actually  exist,  what  sort  of 
vindication  of  Deity  is  this  which  will  believe  that 
such  gulfs  are  yawning  only  in  the  bosom  of  man  ? 

It  alarms  and  shocks  us  to  think  that  evil  spirits 
have  power  over  the  human  mind,  and  still  more  that 
such  power  should  extend,  as  in  cases  of  possession, 
even  to  the  body.  Evil  men,  however,  manifestly  wield 
such  power.  *'  They  got  rid  of  the  wicked  one,"  said 
Goethe,  "  but  they  could  not  get  rid  of  the  wicked  ones." 
Social  and  intellectual  charm,  high  rank,  the  mysterious 
attraction  of  a  strong  individuality,  all  are  employed 
at  times  to  mislead  and  debase  the  shuddering,  reluc- 
tant, mesmerised  wills  of  weaker  men  and  women.  And 
then  the  mind  acts  upon  the  body,  as  perhaps  it  always 
does.  Drunkenness  and  debauchery  shake  the  nerves. 
Paralysis  and  lunacy  tread  hard  on  the  footsteps  of 
excess.  Experience  knows  no  reason  for  denying  that 
when  wickedness  conquers  the  soul  it  will  also  deal 
hardly  with  the  body. 

But  we  must  not  stop  here.  For  the  Gospels  do  not 
countenance  the  popular  notion  that  special  wickedness 
was  the  cause  of  the  fearful  wretchedness  of  the  pos- 
sessed. Young  children  suffered.  Jesus  often  cautioned 
a  sufferer  to  sin  no  more  lest  worse  results  should  follow 
than  those  He  had  removed ;  but  He  is  never  known  to 
have  addressed  this  warning  to  demoniacs.  They  suffered 
from  the  tyranny  of  Satan,  rather  than  from  his  seduc- 
tion ;  and  the  analogies  which  make  credible  so  frightful 
an  outrage  upon  human  nature,  are  the  wrongs  done 
by  despots  and  mobs,  by  invading  armies  and  persecut- 
ing religionists.  Yet  people  who  cannot  believe  that 
a  demon  could  throw  a  child  upon  the  fire,  are  not 
incredulous  of  Attila,  Napoleon,  and  the  Inquisition. 


Mark  i.  23-28.]  THE  DEMONIAC.  31 

Thus  it  appears  that  such  a  narrative  need  startle 
no  believer  in  God,  and  in  moral  good  and  evil,  who 
considers  the  unquestionable  facts  of  life.  And  how 
often  will  the  observant  Christian  be  startled  at  the 
wild  insurrection  and  surging  up  of  evil  thought  and 
dark  suggestions,  which  he  cannot  believe  to  be  his  own, 
which  will  not  be  gainsaid  nor  repulsed.  How  easily 
do  such  experiences  fall  in  with  the  plain  words  of  Scrip- 
ture, by  which  the  veil  is  drawn  aside,  and  the  mystery 
of  the  spiritual  world  laid  bare.  Then  we  learn  that 
man  is  not  only  fallen  but  assaulted,  not  only  feeble  but 
enslaved,  not  only  a  wandering  sheep  but  led  captive 
by  the  devil  at  his  will. 

We  turn  to  the  narrative  before  us.  They  are  still 
wondering  at  our  Lord's  authoritative  manner,  when 
"straightway,"  for  opportunities  were  countless  until 
unbelief  arose,  a  man  with  an  unclean  spirit  attracts 
attention.  We  can  only  conjecture  the  special  meaning 
of  this  description.  A  recent  commentator  assumes 
that  "  like  the  rest,  he  had  his  dwelling  among  the 
tombs :  an  overpowering  influence  had  driven  him 
away  from  the  haunts  of  men."  (Canon  Luckock,  in 
loco).  To  others  this  feature  in  the  wretchedness  of  the 
Gadarene  may  perhaps  seem  rather  to  be  exceptional, 
the  last  touch  in  the  appalling  picture  of  his  misery. 
It  may  be  that  nothing  more  outrageous  than  morbid 
gloom  or  sullen  mutterings  had  hitherto  made  it  neces- 
sary to  exclude  this  sufferer  from  the  synagogue.  Or 
the  language  may  suggest  that  he  rushed  abruptly  in, 
driven  by  the  frantic  hostility  of  the  fiend,  or  impelled 
by  some  mysterious  and  lingering  hope,  as  the  de- 
moniac of  Gadara  ran  to  Christ. 

What  w^  know  is  that  the  sacred  Presence  provoked 
»  crisis.     There  is    an   unbelief  which   never  can    he 


GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 


silent,  never  wearies  railing  at  the  faith,  and  there  is  a 
corruption  which  resents  goodness  and  hates  it  as  a 
personal  wrong.  So  the  demons  who  possessed  men 
were  never  able  to  confront  Jesus  calmly.  They 
resent  His  interference ;  they  cry  out ;  they  disclaim 
having  anything  to  do  with  Him  ;  they  seem  indignant 
that  He  should  come  to  destroy  them  who  have 
destroyed  so  many.  There  is  something  weird  and 
unearthly  in  the  complaint.  But  men  also  are  wont  to 
forget  their  wrong  doing  when  they  come  to  suffer,  and 
it  is  recorded  that  even  Nero  had  abundance  of  com- 
passion for  himself.  Weird  also  and  terrible  is  it,  that 
this  unclean  spirit  should  choose  for  his  confession  that 
pure  and  exquisite  epithet,  the  Holy  One  of  God.  The 
phrase  only  recurs  in  the  words  of  St.  Peter,  "  We  have 
believed  and  know  that  Thou  art  the  Holy  One  of 
God"  (John  vi.  69,  R.  V.).  Was  it  not  a  mournful 
association  of  ideas  which  then  led  Jesus  to  reply, 
'*  Have  I  not  chosen  you  the  Twelve,  and  one  of  you  is 
a  devil  ?  *  "  But  although  the  phrase  is  beautiful,  and 
possibly  "  wild  with  all  regret,"  there  is  no  relenting, 
no  better  desire  than  to  be  "  let  alone."  And  so  Jesus, 
so  gentle  with  sinful  men,  yet  sometime  to  be  their 
judge  also,  is  stern  and  cold.  "  Hold  thy  peace — be 
muzzled,"  He  answers,  as  to  a  wild  beast,  "  and  come 
out  of  him."  Whereupon  the  evil  spirit  exhibits  at 
once  his  ferocity  and  his  defeat.  Tearing  and  scream 
ing,  he  came  out^  but  we  read  in  St.  Luke  that  he  did 
the  man  no  harm. 

And  the  spectators  drew  the  proper  inference.  A 
new  power  implied  a  new  revelation.     Something  far- 

*  The  connection  would  be  almost  certain  if  the  word  "devil"  were 
alike  in  both.  But  in  all  these  narratives  it  is  "  demon,"  there  beirg  in 
Scripture  but  one  devil. 


Mark L 23-28.]  THE  DEMONIAC.  33 

reaching  and  profound  might  be  expected  from  Him 
who  commanded  even  the  unclean  spirits  with  authority, 
and  was  obeyed. 

It  is  the  custom  of  unbelievers  to  speak  as  if  the  air 
of  Palestine  were  then  surcharged  with  belief  in  the 
supernatural.  Miracles  were  everywhere.  Thus  they 
would  explain  away  the  significance  of  the  popular  belief 
that  our  Lord  wrought  signs  and  wonders.  But  in  so 
doing  they  set  themselves  a  worse  problem  than  they 
evade.  If  miracles  were  so  very  common,  it  would  be 
as  easy  to  believe  that  Jesus  wrought  them  as  that  He 
worked  at  His  father*s  bench.  But  also  it  would  be  as 
inconclusive.  And  how  then  are  we  to  explain  the 
astonishment  which  all  the  evangelists  so  constantly 
record?  On  any  conceivable  theory,  these  writers 
shared  the  beliefs  of  that  age.  And  so  did  the  readers 
who  accepted  their  assurance  that  all  were  amazed,  and 
that  His  report  "  went  out  straightway  everywhere  into 
all  the  region  of  Galilee."  These  are  emphatic  words, 
and  both  the  author  and  his  readers  must  have  con- 
sidered a  miracle  to  be  more  surprising  than  modern 
critics  believe  they  did. 

Yet  we  do  not  read  that  any  one  was  converted  by 
this  miracle.  All  were  amazed,  but  wonder  is  not  self- 
surrender.  They  were  content  to  let  their  excitement 
die  out,  as  every  violent  emotion  must,  without  any 
change  of  life,  any  permanent  devotion  to  the  new 
Teacher  and  His  doctrine. 


34  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


A    GROUP  OF  MIRACLES, 

"  And  straightway,  when  they  were  come  out  of  the  synagogue,  they 
came   into   the  house  of  Simon  and  Andrew,  with  James  and  John,    j 
Now  Simon's  wife's  mother  lay  sick  of  a  fever ;  and  straightway  Ihey  tell    \ 
Him  of  her :  and  He  came  and  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  raised  her    "' 
up  ;  and  the  fever  left  her,  and  she  ministered  unto  them.     And  at 
even,  when   the   sun  did  set,   they  brought  unto  Him   all  that  were    ^ 
sick,  and  them  that  were  possessed  with  devils.     And  all  the  city  was 
gathered  together  at  the  door.     And  He  healed  many  that  were  sick 
with  divers  diseases,  and  cast  out  many  devils ;  and  Pie  suffered  not 
the  devils  to  speak,  because  they  knew  Him." — Mark  i.  29-34  (R.V.). 

St.  Matthew  tells  us  that  on  leaving  the  synagogue 
they  entered  into  Peter's  house.  St.  Mark,  with  his 
peculiar  sources  of  information,  is  aware  that  Andrew 
shared  the  house  with  his  brother. 

Especial  interest  attaches  to  the  mention  of  the 
mother-in-law  of  Peter,  as  proving  that  Jesus  chose  a 
married  man  to  be  an  apostle,  the  very  apostle  from 
whom  the  celibate  ministry  of  Rome  professes  to  have 
received  the  keys.  The  evidence  does  not  stand  alone. 
When  St.  Paul's  apostolic  authority  was  impugned,  he  - 
insisted  that  he  had  the  same  right  to  bring  with  him 
in  his  travels  a  believing  wife,  which  Peter  exercised. 
And  Clement  of  Alexandria  tells  us  that  Peter's  wife 
acted  as  his  coadjutor,  ministering  to  women  in  their 
own  homes,  by  which  means  the  gospel  of  Christ 
penetrated  without  scandal  the  privacy  of  women's 
apartments.  Thus  the  notion  of  a  Zenana  mission  is 
by  no  means  modern. 

The  mother  of  such  a  wife  is  afflicted  by  fever  of  a 
kind  which  still  haunts  that  district.  **  And  they  tell 
Him  of  her."  Doubtless  there  was  solicitude  and  hope 
in  their  voices,  even  if  desire  did  not  take  the  shape  of 
formal  prayer.     We  are  just  emerging  from  that  early 


Mark i.  29-34-  ^    GROUP  OF  MIRACLES.  35 

period  when  belief  in  His  power  to  heal  might  still  be 
united  with  some  doubt  whether  free  application  might 
be  made  to  Him.  His  disciples  might  still  be  as 
unwise  as  those  modern  theologians  who  are  so  busy 
studying  the  miracles  as  a  sign  that  they  forget  to 
think  of  them  as  works  of  love.  Any  such  hesitation 
was  now  to  be  dispelled  for  ever. 

It  is  possible  that  such  is  the  meaning  of  the  ex- 
pression, and  if  so,  it  has  a  useful  lesson.  Sometimes 
there  are  temporal  gifts  which  we  scarce  know  whether 
we  should  pray  for,  so  complex  are  our  feelings,  so  en- 
tangled our  interests  with  those  of  others,  so  obscure 
and  dubious  the  springs  which  move  our  desire.  Is  it 
presumptuous  to  ask  ?  Yet  can  it  be  right  to  keep 
anything  back,  in  our  communion   with  our  Father  ? 

Now  there  is  a  curious  similarity  between  the  ex- 
pression "  they  tell  Jesus  of  her "  and  that  phrase 
which  is  only  applied  to  prayer  when  St.  Paul  bids  us 
pray  for  all  that  is  in  our  hearts.  '^In  nothing  be 
anxious,  but  in  everything  by  prayer  and  supplication 
with  thanksgiving  let  your  requests  be  made  known 
unto  God."  So  shall  the  great  benediction  be  fulfilled: 
"  The  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  understand- 
ing, shall  guard  your  hearts  and  your  thoughts" 
(Phil  iv.  6,  7).  All  that  is  unholy  shall  be  purified,  all 
that  is  unwise  subdued,  all  that  is  expedient  granted. 

If  this  be  indeed  the  force  of  St.  Mark's  phrase,  Jesus 
felt  their  modest  reticence  to  be  a  strong  appeal,  for 
St.  Luke  says  "they  besought  Him,"  while  St.  Matthew 
merely  writes  that  He  saw  her  lying.  The  **  Inter- 
preter of  St.  Peter  "  is  most  likely  to  have  caught  the 
exact  shade  of  anxiety  and  appeal  by  which  her  friends 
drew  His  attention,  and  which  was  indeed  a  prayer. 

The  gentle  courtesy  of  our  Lord's  healings  cannot  be 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 


too  much  studied  by  those  who  would  know  His  mind 
and  love  Him.  Never  does  He  fling  a  careless  blessing 
as  coarse  benefactors  fling  their  alms  ;  we  shall  here- 
after see  how  far  He  was  from  leaving  fallen  bread  to 
be  snatched  as  by  a  dog,  even  by  one  who  would  have 
welcomed  a  boon  thus  contemptuously  given  to  her ; 
and  in  the  hour  of  His  arrest,  when  He  would  heal 
the  ear  of  a  persecutor,  His  courtesy  appeals  to  those 
who  had  laid  hold  on  Him,  *'  Suffer  ye  thus  far."  Thus 
He  went  to  this  woman  and  took  her  by  the  hand  and 
raised  her  up,  laying  a  cool  touch  upon  her  fevered 
palm,  bestowing  His  strength  upon  her  weakness, 
healing  her  as  He  would  fain  heal  humanity.  For  at 
His  touch  the  disease  was  banished;  with  His  impulse 
her  strength  returned. 

We  do  not  read  that  she  felt  bound  thereupon  to 
become  an  obtrusive  public  witness  to  His  powers  :  that 
was  not  her  function  ;  but  in  her  quiet  home  she  failed 
not  to  minister  unto  Him  who  had  restored  her  powers. 
Would  that  all  whose  physical  powers  Jesus  renews 
from  sickness,  might  devote  their  energies  to  Him. 
Would  that  all  for  whom  He  has  calmed  the  fever  of 
earthly  passion,  might  arise  and  be  energetic  in  His 
cause. 

Think  of  the  wonder,  the  gladness  and  gratitude  of 
their  humble  feast.  But  if  we  felt  aright  the  sickness 
of  our  souls,  and  the  grace  which  heals  them,  equal 
gratitude  would  fill  our  lives  as  He  sups  with  us  and 
we  with  Him. 

Tidings  of  the  two  miracles  have  quickly  gone 
abroad,  and  as  the  sun  sets,  and  the  restraint  of  the 
sabbath  is  removed,  all  the  city  gathers  all  the  sick 
around  His  door. 

Now  here  is  a  curious  example  of  the  peril  of  press- 


Mark i.  29-34-]         ^    GROUP  OF  MIRACLES.  37 

ing  too  eagerly  our  inferences  from  the  expressions  of 
an  evangelist.  St.  Mark  tells  us  that  they  brought 
*'all  their  sick  and  them  that  were  possessed  with 
devils.  And  He  healed  "  (not  all,  but)  "  many  that  were 
sick,  and  cast  out  many  devils."  How  easily  we  might 
distinguish  between  the  "  all "  who  came,  and  the 
'*  many "  who  were  healed.  Want  of  faith  would 
explain  the  difference,  and  spiritual  analogies  would 
be  found  for  those  who  remained  unhealed  at  the  feet 
of  the  good  Physician.  These  lessons  might  be  very 
edifying,  but  they  would  be  out  of  place,  for  St. 
Matthew  tells  us  that  He  healed  them  all. 

But  who  can  fail  to  contrast  this  universal  movement, 
the  urgent  quest  of  bodily  health,  and  the  willingness 
of  friends  and  neighbours  to  convey  their  sick  to  Jesus, 
with  our  indifference  to  the  health  of  the  soul,  and  our 
neglect  to  lead  others  to  the  Saviour.  Disease  being 
the  cold  shadow  of  sin,  its  removal  was  a  kind  of 
sacrament,  an  outward  and  visible  sign  that  the  Healer 
of  souls  was  nigh.  But  the  chillness  of  the  shadow 
afflicts  us  more  than  the  pollution  of  the  substance, 
and  few  professing  Christians  lament  a  hot  temper  as 
sincerely  as  a  fever. 

As  Jesus  drove  out  the  demons,  He  suffered  them 
not  to  speak  because  they  knew  Him.  We  cannot 
believe  that  His  rejection  of  their  impure  testimony  was 
prudential  only,  whatever  possibility  there  may  have 
been  of  that  charge  of  complicity  which  was  afterwards 
actually  brought.  Any  help  which  might  have  come  to 
Him  from  the  lips  of  hell  was  shocking  and  revolting 
to  our  Lord.  And  this  is  a  lesson  for  all  religious  and 
political  partisans  who  stop  short  of  doing  evil  them- 
selves, but  reject  no  advantage  which  the  evil  deeds 
of  others  may  bestow.     Not  so  cold  and  negative  is  the 


38  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 

morality  of  Jesus.  He  regards  as  contamination  what- 
ever help  fraud,  suppressions  of  truth,  injustice,  by 
whomsoever  wrought,  can  yield.  He  rejects  them  by 
an  instinct  of  abhorrence,  and  not  only  because  shame 
and  dishonour  have  always  befallen  the  purest  cause 
which  stooped  to  unholy  alliances. 

Jesus  that  day  showed  Himself  powerful  ahke  in  the 
congregation,  in  the  home,  and  in  the  streets,  and  over 
evil  spirits  and  physical  disease  alike. 


JESUS  IN  SOLITUDE. 

"  And  in  the  morning,  a  great  while  before  day,  He  rose  up  and  went 
out,  and  departed  into  a  desert  place,  and  there  prayed.  And  Simon 
and  they  that  were  with  him  followed  after  Him  ;  and  they  found  Him, 
and  say  unto  Him,  All  are  seeking  Thee.  And  He  saith  unto  them, 
Let  us  go  elsewhere  into  the  next  towns,  that  I  may  preach  there  also  ; 
for  to  this  end  came  I  forth.  And  He  went  into  their  synagogues 
throughout  all  Galilee,  and  preaching  casting  out  devils." — Mark  i. 
35-39  (R.V.). 

St.  Mark  is  pre-eminently  the  historian  of  Christ's 
activities.  From  him  chiefly  we  learn  to  add  to 
our  thought  of  perfect  love  and  gentleness  that  of  One 
whom  the  zeal  of  God's  house  ate  up.  But  this 
evangelist  does  not  omit  to  tell  us  by  what  secret 
fountains  this  river  of  life  was  fed ;  how  the  active 
labours  of  Jesus  were  inspired  in  secret  prayers.  Too 
often  we  allow  to  one  side  of  religion  a  development 
which  is  not  excessive,  but  disproportinate,  and  we  are 
punislied  when  contemplation  becomes  nerveless,  or 
f^nergy  burns  itself  away. 

After  feeding  the  five  thousand,  St.  Mark  tells  us 
that  Jesus,  while  the  storm  gathered  over  His  disciples 
on  the  lake,  went  up  into  a  mountain  to  pray.  And  St 
liuke  tells  of  a  whole  night  of  prayer  before  choosing 


Mark  L  35-39-]  JESUS  IN  SOLITUDE.  99 

His  disciples,  and  how  it  was  to  pray  that  He  climbed 
the  mountain  of  transfiguration. 

And  we  read  of  Him  going  into  a  desert  place  with 
His  disciples,  and  to  Olivet,  and  oft-times  resorting 
to  the  garden  where  Judas  found  Him,  where,  in  the 
dead  of  night,  the  traitor  naturally  sought  Him. 

Prayer  was  the  spring  of  all  His  energies,  and  His 
own  saying  indicated  the  habit  of  His  mortal  life  as 
truly  as  the  law  of  His  mysterious  generation  :  "  I  live 
by  the  Father." 

His  prayers  impress  nothing  on  us  more  powerfully 
than  the  reality  of  His  manhood.  He,  Who  possesses 
all  things,  bends  His  knees  to  crave,  and  His  prayers  are 
definite,  no  empty  form,  no  homage  without  sense  of 
need,  no  firing  of  blank  cartridge  without  an  aim.  He 
asks  that  His  disciples  may  be  with  Him  where  He  is, 
that  Simon's  strength  may  fail  not,  that  He  may  Him- 
self be  saved  from  a  dreadful  hour.  "  Such  touches  " 
said  Godet  '^  do  not  look  like  an  artificial  apotheosis  of 
Jesus,  and  they  constitute  a  striking  difference  between 
the  gospel  portrait  and  the  legendary  caricature." 

The  entire  evening  had  been  passed  in  healing  the 
diseases  of  the  whole  town ;  not  the  light  and  careless 
bestowal  of  a  boon  which  cost  nothing,  but  wrought 
with  so  much  sympathy,  such  draining  of  His  own 
vital  forces,  that  St.  Matthew  found  in  it  a  fulfilment 
of  the  prophecy  that  He  should  Himself  bear  our 
sicknesses.  And  thus  exhausted,  the  frame  might 
have  been  forgiven  for  demanding  some  indulgence, 
some  prolongation  of  repose. 

But  the  course  of  our  Lord's  ministry  was  now 
opening  up  before  Him,  and  the  hindrances  becoming 
visible.  How  much  was  to  be  hoped  from  the  great 
impression  already  made ;  how  much  to  be  feared  from 


GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 


the  weakness  of  His  followers,  the  incipient  envy  d 
priest  and  Pharisee,  and  the  volatile  excitability  of  the 
crowd.  At  such  a  time,  to  relieve  His  burdened  heart 
with  Divine  communion  was  more  to  Jesus  than  repose, 
as,  at  another  time,  to  serve  Him  was  meat  to  eat. 
And  therefore,  in  the  still  fresh  morning,  long  before 
the  dawn,  while  every  earthly  sight  was  dim  but  the 
abysses  of  heaven  were  vivid,  declaring  without  voice, 
amid  the  silence  of  earth's  discord,  the  glory  and  the 
handiwork  of  His  Father,  Jesus  went  into  a  solitary 
place  and  prayed. 

What  is  it  that  makes  solitude  and  darkness  dreadful 
to  some,  and  oppressive  to  very  many  ? 

Partly  the  sense  of  physical  danger,  born  of  help- 
lessness and  uncertainty.  This  He  never  felt,  who 
knew  that  He  must  walk  to-day  and  to-morrow,  and  on 
the  third  day  be  perfected.  And  partly  it  is  the  weight 
of  unwelcome  reflection,  the  searching  and  rebukes  of 
memory,  fears  that  come  of  guilt,  and  inward  dis- 
tractions of  a  nature  estranged  from  the  true  nature  of 
the  universe.  Jesus  was  agitated  by  no  inward  dis- 
cords, upbraided  by  no  remorse.  And  He  had  probably 
no  reveries;  He  is  never  recorded  to  soliloquise; 
solitude  to  Him  was  but  another  name  for  communion 
with  God  His  Father ;  He  was  never  alone,  for  God 
was  with  Him. 

This  retirement  enabled  Him  to  remain  undisturbed 
until  His  disciples  found  Him,  long  after  the  crowds 
had  besieged  their  dwelling.  They  had  not  yet  learned 
how  all  true  external  hfe  must  rest  upon  the  hidden  life 
of  devotion,  and  there  is  an  accent  of  regret  in  the 
words,  "  All  are  seeking  Thee,"  as  if  Jesus  could  neglect 
in  self-culture  any  true  opportunity  for  service. 

The  answer,  noteworthy  in  itself,  demandfs  especial 


Mark  i.  J5-39.]  /ESUS  IN  SOLITUDE.  4I 

attention  in  these  times  of  missions,  demonstrations, 
Salvation  Armies,  and  other  wise  and  unwise  attempts 
to  gather  excited  crowds  around  the  cross. 

Mere  sensation  actually  repelled  Jesus.  Again  and 
again  He  charged  men  not  to  make  Him  known,  in  places 
where  He  would  stay;  while  in  Gadara,  which  He  had  to 
leave,  His  command  to  the  demoniac  was  the  reverse. 
Deep  and  real  convictions  are  not  of  kin  with  sight- 
seeing and  the  pursuit  of  wonders.  Capernaum  has 
now  heard  His  message,  has  received  its  full  share  of 
physical  blessing,  is  exalted  unto  heaven.  Those  who 
were  looking  for  redemption  knew  the  gospel,  and 
Jesus  must  preach  it  in  other  towns  also.  Therefore, 
and  not  to  be  the  centre  of  admiring  multitudes,  came 
He  forth  from  His  quiet  home. 

Such  is  the  sane  and  tranquil  action  of  Jesus,  in  face 
of  the  excitement  caused  by  His  many  miracles.  Now 
the  miracles  themselves,  and  all  that  depends  on  them, 
are  declared  to  be  the  creation  of  the  wildest  fanaticism, 
either  during  His  lifetime  or  developing  His  legend 
afterwards.  And  if  so,  we  have  here,  in  the  action  of 
human  mind,  the  marvel  of  modern  physicists,  ice 
from  a  red-hot  retort,  absolute  moderation  from  a  dream 
of  frenzy.  And  this  paradox  is  created  in  the  act  of 
"  explaining  "  the  miracles.  The  explanation,  even 
were  it  sustained  by  any  evidence,  would  be  as  difficult 
as  any  miracle  to  believe. 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 


THE  LEPER. 

"  And  there  cometh  to  Him  a  leper,  beseeching  Him,  and  kneeling 
down  to  Him,  and  saying  unto  Him,  If  Thou  wilt,  Thou  canst  make 
me  clean.  And  being  moved  with  compassion,  He  stretched  forth  His 
hand,  and  touched  him,  and  saith  unto  him,  I  will ;  be  thou  made 
clean.  And  straightway  the  leprosy  departed  from  him,  and  he  was 
made  clean.  And  He  strictly  charged  him,  and  straightway  sent  him 
out,  and  saith  unto  him,  See  thou  say  nothing  to  any  man :  but  go 
thy  way,  show  thyself  to  the  priest,  and  offer  for  thy  cleansing  tht 
things  which  Moses  commanded,  for  a  testimony  unto  them.  But  he 
went  out,  and  began  to  publish  it  much,  and  to  spread  abroad  the  matter, 
insomuch  that  Jesus  could  no  more  openly  enter  into  a  city,  but  was 
without  in  desert  places  :  and  they  came  to  Him  from  every  quarter." — 
Mark  i.  40-45  (R.  V.). 

The  disease  of  leprosy  was  peculiarly  fearful  to  a  Jew. 
In  its  stealthy  beginning,  its  irresistible  advance, 
the  utter  ruin  which  it  wrought  from  the  blood  out- 
ward until  the  flesh  was  corroded  and  fell  away,  it 
was  a  fit  type  of  sin,  at  first  so  trivial  in  its  indica- 
tions, but  gradually  usurping  all  the  nature  and 
corrupting  it.  And  the  terrible  fact,  that  the  children 
of  its  victims  were  also  doomed,  reminded  the  Israelite 
of  the  transmission  of  the  taint  of  Adam. 

The  story  of  Naaman  and  that  of  Gehazi  make  it 
almost  certain  that  the  leprosy  of  Scripture  was  not 
contagious,  for  they  were  intimate  with  kings.  But, 
apparently  to  complete  the  type,  the  law  gave  to  it 
the  artificial  contagion  of  ceremonial  uncleanness,  and 
banished  the  unhappy  sufferer  from  the  dwellings  of 
.aen.  Thus  he  came  to  be  regarded  as  under  an  especial 
ban,  and  the  prophecy  which  announced  that  the 
illustrious  Man  of  Sorrows  would  be  esteemed  "  stricken 
of  God,"  was  taken  to  mean  that  He  should  be  a  leper. 
This  banishment  of  the  leper   was  indeed  a  remark- 


Mark  i.  40-45.]  THE  LEPER,  43 

able  exception  to  the  humanity  of  the  ancient  law, 
but  when  his  distress  began  to  be  extreme,  and  "  the 
plague  was  turned  into  white,"  he  was  released  from 
his  uncleanness  (Lev.  xiii.  17),  And  this  may  teach 
us  that  sin  is  to  be  dreaded  most  while  it  is  yet 
insidious ;  when  developed  it  gives  a  sufficient  warning 
against  itself.  And  now  such  a  sufferer  appeals  to 
Jesus.  The  incident  is  one  of  the  most  pathetic  in  the 
Gospel;  and  its  graphic  details,  and  the  shining  cha- 
racter which  it  reveals,  make  it  very  perplexing  to 
moderate  and  thoughtful  sceptics. 

Those  who  believe  that  the  charm  of  His  presence 
was.  "worth  all  the  resources  of  medicine,"  agree  that 
Christ  may  have  cured  even  leprosy,  and  insist  that 
this  story,  as  told  by  St.  Mark,  "  must  be  genuine." 
Others  suppose  that  the  leper  was  already  cured,  and 
Jesus  only  urged  him  to  fulfil  the  requirements  of  the 
law.  And  why  not  deny  the  story  boldly?  Why 
linger  so  longingly  over  the  details,  when  credence  is 
refused  to  what  is  plainly  the  mainspring  of  the  whole, 
the  miraculous  power  of  Jesus  ?  The  answer  is  plain. 
Honest  minds  feel  the  touch  of  a  great  nature;  the 
misery  of  the  suppliant  and  the  compassion  of  his 
Restorer  are  so  vivid  as  to  prove  themselves;  no 
dreamer  of  a  myth,  no  process  of  legend-building,  ever 
wrought  after  this  fashion.  But  then,  the  misery  and 
compassion  being  granted,  the  whole  story  is  practically 
conceded.  It  only  remains  to  ask,  whether  the  "  pre- 
sence of  the  Saintly  Man"  could  work  a  chemical 
change  in  tainted  blood.  For  it  must  be  insisted  that 
the  man  was  "  full  of  leprosy,"  and  not,  as  one  sug- 
gests, already  far  advanced  towards  cure.  The  contrast 
between  his  running  and  kneeling  at  the  very  feet 
of  Jesus,  and  the  conduct  of  the  ten  lepers,  not  yet 


44  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

released  from  their  exclusion,  who  stood  afar  off  while 
they  cried  out  (Luke  xvii.  12),  is  sufBcient  evidence 
of  this,  even  if  the  express  statement  of  St.  Luke 
were  not  decisive. 

Repulsive,  and  until  now  despairing,  only  tolerated 
among  men  through  the  completeness  of  his  plague, 
this  man  pushes  through  the  crowd  which  shrinks  from 
him,  kneels  in  an  agony  of  supplication,  and  says  "  If 
Thou  wilt.  Thou  canst  make  me  clean."  If  Thou  wilt  I 
The  cruelty  of  man  has  taught  him  to  doubt  the  heart, 
even  though  satisfied  of  the  power  of  Jesus.  In  a  few 
years,  men  came  to  assume  the  love,  and  exult  in  the 
reflection  that  He  was  **  able  to  keep  what  '  was '  com- 
mitted to  Him,"  "  able  to  do  exceeding  abundantly 
above  all  that  we  ask  or  think."  It  did  not  occur  to 
St.  Paul  that  any  mention  of  His  will  was  needed. 

Nor  did  Jesus  Himself  ask  a  later  suppliant,  "  Be- 
lievest  thou  that  I  am  willing,"  but  **  Believest  thou 
that  I  am  able  to  do  this  ?  " 

But  the  charm  of  this  delightful  incident  is  the 
manner  in  which  our  Lord  grants  the  impassioned 
prayer.  We  might  have  expected  a  shudder,  a  natural 
recoil  from  the  loathsome  spectacle,  and  then  a 
wonder-working  word.  But  misery  which  He  could 
reheve  did  not  repel  Jesus;  it  attracted  Him.  His 
impulse  was  to  approach.  He  not  only  answered  "  I 
will," — and  deep  is  the  will  to  remove  all  anguish  in  the 
wonderful  heart  of  Jesus, — but  He  stretched  forth  an 
unshrinking  hand,  and  touched  that  death  in  life.  It 
is  a  parable  of  all  His  course,  this  laying  of  a  clean 
hand  on  the  sin  of  the  world  to  cleanse  it.  At  His 
touch,  how  was  the  morbid  frame  thrilled  with  delight- 
ful pulses  of  suddenly  renovated  health.  And  how 
'vas   the  despairing,  joyless  heart,  incredulous  of  any 


MarkL40-4S]  THE  LEPER.  45 

real  will  to  help  him,  soothed  and  healed  by  the  pure 
delight  of  being  loved. 

This  is  the  true  lesson  of  the  narrative.  St.  Mark 
treats  the  miraculous  cure  much  more  lightly  than  the 
tender  compassion  and  the  swift  movement  to  relieve 
suffering.  And  He  is  right.  The  warm  and  generous 
nature  revealed  by  this  fine  narrative  is  what,  as  we  hive 
seen,  most  impresses  the  doubter,  and  ought  most  to 
comfort  the  Church.  For  He  is  the  same  yesterday  and 
to-day.  And  perhaps,  if  the  divinity  of  love  impressed 
men  as  much  as  that  of  power,  there  would  be  less 
denial  of  the  true  Godhead  of  our  Lord. 

The  touch  of  a  leper  made  a  Jew  unclean.  And 
there  is  a  surprising  theory,  that  when  Jesus  could  no 
more  openly  enter  into  a  city,  it  was  because  the  leper 
had  disobediently  published  what  implied  His  cere- 
monial defilement.  As  if  our  Lord  were  one  to  violate 
the  law  by  stealth. 

But  is  it  very  remarkable  that  Christ,  Who  was  born 
under  the  law,  never  betrayed  any  anxiety  about  clean- 
ness. The  law  of  impurity  was  in  fact  an  expression 
of  human  frailty.  Sin  spreads  corruption  far  more 
easily  than  virtue  diffuses  purity.  The  touch  of  good- 
ness fails  to  reproduce  goodness.  And  the  prophet 
Haggai  has  laid  stress  upon  this  contrast,  that  bread 
or  pottage  or  wiAe  or  oil  or  any  meat  will  not  become 
holy  at  the  touch  of  one  who  bears  holy  flesh  in  the  skirt 
of  his  garment,  but  if  one  that  is  unclean  by  a  dead 
body  touch  any  of  these,  it  shall  be  unclean  (ii.  12,  13). 
Our  hearts  know  full  well  how  true  to  nature  is  the 
ordinance. 

But  Christ  brought  among  us  a  virtue  more  con- 
tagious than  our  vices  are,  being  not  only  a  living  soul, 
but  a  life-imparting  Spirit.     And  thus   He  lays  His 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 


hand  upon  this  leper,  upon  the  bier  at  Nain,  upon  the 
corpse  of  the  daughter  of  Jairus,  and  as  fire  is 
kindled  at  the  touch  of  fire,  so  instead  of  pollution  to 
Him,  the  pureness  of  healthful  life  is  imparted  to  the 
defiling  and  defiled. 

And  His  followers  also  are  to  possess  a  religion  that 
is  vitaUzing,  to  be  the  light  of  the  world,  and  the  salt 
of  the  earth. 

If  we  are  thus  to  further  His  cause,  we  must  not 
only  be  zealous  but  obedient.  Jesus  strictly  charged 
the  leper  not  to  fan  the  flame  of  an  excitement  which 
already  impeded  His  work.  But  there  was  an  invalu- 
able service  which  he  might  render :  the  formal  registra- 
tion of  his  cure,  the  securing  its  official  recognition  by 
the  priests,  and  their  consent  to  offer  the  commanded 
sacrifices.  In  many  a  subsequent  controversy,  that 
"  testimony  unto  them  "  might  have  been  embarrassing 
indeed.  But  the  leper  lost  his  opportunity,  and  put 
them  upon  their  guard.  And  as  through  his  impulsive 
clamour  Jesus  could  no  more  openly  enter  into  a  city, 
but  even  in  desert  places  was  beset  by  excited  crowds, 
so  is  He  deprived  to-day  of  many  a  tranquil  ministra- 
tion and  lowly  service,  by  the  zeal  which  despises 
order  and  quiet  methods,  by  the  undisciplined  and 
ill-judged  demonstrations  of  men  and  women  whom  He 
has  blesse(i 


CHAPTER   II, 

THE   SICK   OF    THE    PALSY. 

"And  when  He  entered  again  into  Capernaum  after  some  daja, 
it  was  noised  that  He  was  in  the  house." — Mark  ii.  i  (R.V.). 

JESUS  returns  to  Capernaum,  and  an  eager  crowd 
blocks  even  the  approaches  to  the  house  where  He 
is  known  to  be.  St.  Mark,  as  we  should  expect, 
relates  the  course  of  events,  the  multitudes,  the  in- 
genious device  by  which  a  miracle  is  obtained,  the 
claim  which  Jesus  advances  to  yet  greater  authority 
than  heretofore,  and  the  impression  produced.  But 
St.  Luke  explains  that  there  were  "  sitting  by," 
having  obtained  the  foremost  places  which  they  loved, 
Pharisees  and  doctors  of  the  law  from  every  village  of 
Galilee  and  Judaea,  and  from  Jerusalem  itself.  And 
this  concourse,  evidently  preconcerted  and  unfriendly, 
explains  the  first  murmurs  of  opposition  recorded  by 
St.  Mark.  It  was  the  jealousy  of  rival  teachers  which 
so  readily  pronounced  Him  a  blasphemer. 

The  crowds  besieged  the  very  passages,  there  was  no 
room,  no,  not  around  the  door,  and  even  if  one  might 
struggle  forward,  four  men  bearing  a  htter  might  well 
despair.  But  with  palsied  paralysis  at  stake,  they 
would  not  be  repulsed.  They  gained  the  roof  by  an 
outer  staircase,  such  as  the  fugitives  from  Jerusalem 
should   hereafter   use,   not   going  through    the  house. 


GCSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK. 


Then  they  uncovered  and  broke  up  the  roof,  by  which 
strong  phrases  St.  Mark  means  that  they  first  Hfted 
the  tiles  which  lay  in  a  bed  of  mortar  or  mud,  broke 
through  this,  and  then  tore  up  the  poles  and  light 
rafters  by  which  all  this  covering  was  supported. 
Then  they  lowered  the  sick  man  upon  his  pallet,  ti 
front  of  the  Master  as  He  taught. 

It  was  an  unceremonious  act.  However  carefully 
performed,  the  audience  below  must  have  been  not  only 
disturbed  but  inconvenienced,  and  doubtless  among 
the  precise  and  unmerciful  personages  in  the  chief 
seats  there  was  many  an  angry  glance,  many  a  murmur, 
many  a  conjecture  of  rebukes  presently  to  be  inflicted 
on  the  intruders. 

But  Jesus  never  in  any  circumstances  rebuked  for 
intrusion  any  suppliant.  And  now  He  discerned  the 
central  spiritual  impulse  of  these  men,  which  was 
not  obtrusiveness  nor  disrespect.  They  believed  that 
neither  din  while  He  preached,  nor  rubbish  falling 
among  His  audience,  nor  the  strange  interruption  of  a 
patient  and  a  litter  intruded  upon  His  discourse,  could 
weigh  as  much  with  Jesus  as  the  appeal  on  a  sick 
man's  face.  And  this  was  faith.  These  peasants  may 
have  been  far  enough  from  intellectual  discernment  of 
Christ's  Personality  and  the  scheme  of  salvation. 
They  had  however  a  strong  and  practical  conviction 
that  He  would  make  whole  their  palsied  friend. 

Now  the  preaching  of  faith  is  suspected  of  endanger- 
ing good  works.  But  was  this  persuasion  likely  to 
make  these  men  torpid  ?  Is  it  not  plain  that  ail 
spiritual  apathy  comes  not  from  over-trust  but  from 
unbelief,  either  doubting  that  sin  is  present  death,  oi 
else  that  holiness  is  life,  and  that  Jesus  has  a  gift  to 
bestow,  not  in  heaven,  but  promptly,  which  is  better  to 


Markii.9.]  THE  SICK  OF  THE  PALSY.  49 

gab  than  all  the  world  ?  Therefore  salvation  is  linked 
with  faith,  which  earns  nothing  but  elicits  all,  like  the 
touch  that  evokes  electricity,  but  which  no  man  sup- 
poses to  have  made  it. 

Because  they  knew  the  curse  of  palsy,  and  believed 
in  a  present  remedy,  these  men  broke  up  the  roof  to 
come  where  Jesus  was.  They  won  their  blessing,  but 
not  the  less  it  was  His  free  gift. 

Jesus  saw  and  rewarded  the  faith  of  all  the  group. 
The  principle  of  mutual  support  and  co-operation  is 
the  basis  alike  of  the  family,  the  nation,  and  the 
Church.  Thus  the  great  Apostle  desired  obscure  and 
long-forgotten  men  and  women  to  help  together  with 
him  in  their  prayers.  And  He  who  visits  the  sins  of 
the  fathers  upon  the  children  unto  the  third  and  fourth 
generation,  shows  mercy  unto  many  more,  unto  thou- 
sands, in  them  that  love  Him.  What  a  rebuke  is  all 
this  to  men  who  think  it  enough  that  they  should  do  no 
harm,  and  live  inoffensive  lives.  Jesus  now  bestowee 
such  a  blessing  as  awoke  strange  misgivings  among 
the  bystanders.  He  divined  the  true  burden  of  that 
afflicted  heart,  the  dreary  memories  and  worse  fears 
which  haunted  that  sick  bed, — and  how  many  are  even 
now  preparing  such  remorse  and  gloom  for  a  bed  of 
pain  hereafter! — and  perhaps  He  discerned  the  con- 
sciousness of  some  guilty  origin  of  the  disease.  Cer- 
tainly He  saw  there  one  whose  thoughts  went  beyond 
his  malady,  a  yearning  soul,  with  hope  glowing  like 
red  sparks  amid  the  ashes  of  his  self-reproach,  that  a 
teacher  so  gracious  as  men  reported  Jesus,  might  bring 
with  Him  a  gospel  indeed.  We  know  that  he  felt  thus, 
for  Jesus  made  him  of  good  cheer  by  pardon  rather 
than  by  healing,  and  spoke  of  the  cure  itself  as 
wrought  less  for  hio  sake  than  as  evidence. 

4 


so  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


Surely  that  was  a  great  moment  when  the  wistful 
gaze  of  eyes  which  disease  had  dimmed,  met  the  eyes 
which  were  as  a  flame  of  fire,  and  knew  that  al  its 
sullied  past  was  at  once  comprehended  and  forgiven. 

Jesus  said  to  him,  *'  Son,  thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee/' 
The  term  of  endearment  was  new  to  his  lips,  and  very 
emphatic ;  the  same  which  Mary  used  when  she  found 
Him  in  the  temple,  the  same  as  when  He  argued  that 
even  evil  men  give  good  gifts  unto  their  children. 
Such  a  relation  towards  Himself  He  recognised  in  this 
afflicted  penitent.  On  the  other  hand,  the  dry  argumen- 
tative temper  of  the  critics  is  well  expressed  by  the  short 
crackling  unemotional  utterances  of  their  orthodoxy: 
*'  Why  doth  this  man  thus  speak  ?  He  blasphemeth. 
Who  can  forgive  sins  but  one,  God."  There  is  no  zeal 
in  it,  no  passion  for  God's  honour,  no  spiritual  insight, 
it  is  as  heartless  as  a  syllogism.  And  in  what  follows 
a  fine  contrast  is  implied  between  their  perplexed  ortho- 
doxy, and  Christ's  profound  discernment.  For  as  He 
had  just  read  the  sick  man's  heart,  so  He  "  perceived 
in  His  spirit  that  they  so  reasoned  within  themselves." 
And  He  asks  them  the  searching  question,  "  Whether 
is  easier  to  say,  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee,  or  to  say, 
Arise  and  walk  ?  "  Now  which  is  really  easier  ?  It  is 
not  enough  to  lay  all  the  emphasis  upon  "  to  say,"  as 
if  with  Jesus  the  ease  of  an  utterance  depended  on  the 
difficulty  of  testing  it.  There  is  indeed  a  certain  irony 
in  the  question.  They  doubtless  imagined  that  Jesus 
was  evading  their  scrutiny  by  only  bestowing  what 
they  could  not  test.  To  them  forgiveness  seemed  more 
easily  offered  than  a  cure.  To  the  Christian,  it  is  less 
to  heal  disease,  which  is  a  mere  consequence,  than  sin, 
which  is  the  source  of  all  our  woes.  To  the  power  of 
Jesus  they  were  alike,  and  connected  with  each  other 


Maik,ii.9.]  THE  SICK  OF  THE  PALSY,  Jl 

as  the  symptom  and  the  true  disease.  In  truth,  all  the 
compassion  which  blesses  our  daily  life  is  a  pledge  of 
grace;  and  He  Who  healeth  all  our  diseases  forgiveth 
also  all  our  iniquities.  But  since  healing  was  the 
severer  test  in  their  reckoning,  Jesus  does  not  evade  it. 
He  restores  the  palsied  man  to  health,  that  they  might 
know  that  the  Son  of  man  hath  authority  on  earth  to 
forgive  sins.  So  then,  pardon  does  not  lie  concealed  and 
doubtful  in  the  councils  of  an  unknown  world.  It  is  pro- 
nounced on  earth.  The  Son  of  man,  wearing  our  nature 
and  touched  with  our  infirmities,  bestows  it  still,  in  the 
Scriptures,  in  the  Sacraments,  in  the  ministrations  of 
His  servants.  Wherever  He  discerns  faith,  He  responds 
with  assurance  of  the  absolution  and  remission  of  sins. 

He  claims  to  do  this,  as  men  had  so  lately  observed 
that  He  both  taught  and  worked  miracles,  "with  author- 
ity." We  then  saw  that  this  word  expressed  the  direct 
and  personal  mastery  with  which  He  wrought,  and 
which  the  apostles  never  claimed  for  themselves. 

Therefore  this  text  cannot  be  quoted  in  defence  of 
priestly  absolutions,  as  long  as  these  are  hypothetical, 
and  depend  on  the  recipient's  earnestness,  or  on  any 
supposition,  any  uncertainty  whatever.  Christ  did  not 
utter  a  hypothesis. 

Fortunately,  too,  the  argument  that  men,  priestly 
men,  must  have  authority  on  earth  to  forgive  sins, 
because  the  Son  of  man  has  such  authority,  can  be 
brought  to  an  easy  test.  There  is  a  passage  elsewhere, 
which  asserts  His  authority,  and  upon  which  the  claim 
to  share  it  can  be  tried.  The  words  are,  '*  The  Father 
gave  Him  authority  to  execute  judgment,  because  He 
is  the  Son  of  man,"  and  they  are  immediately  followed 
by  an  announcement  of  the  resurrection  to  judgment 
(John  v.  27,  29).     Is  any  one  prepared  to  contend  that 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 


such  authority  as  that  is  vested  in  other  sons  of  men  ? 
And  if  not  that,  why  this  ? 

But  if  priestly  absolutions  are  not  here,  there  remains 
the  certainty  that  Jesus  brought  to  earth,  to  man,  the 
gift  of  prompt  effective  pardon,  to  be  realized  by  faith. 

The  sick  man  is  ordered  to  depart  at  once.  Further 
discourse  might  perhaps  be  reserved  for  others,  but 
he  may  not  linger,  having  received  his  own  bodily 
and  spiritual  medicine.  The  teaching  of  Christ  is  not 
for  curiosity.  It  is  good  for  the  greatly  blessed  to  be 
alone.  And  it  is  sometimes  dangerous  for  cbscure 
people  to  be  thrust  into  the  centre  of  attention. 

Hereupon,  another  touch  of  nature  discovers  itself  in 
the  narrative,  for  it  is  now  easy  to  pass  through  the 
crowd.  Men  who  would  not  in  their  selfishness  give 
place  for  palsied  misery,  readily  make  room  for  the  distin- 
guished person  who  has  received  a  miraculous  blessing. 

THE  SON  OF  MAN, 
*'  The  Son  of  man  hath  power  on  earth  to  forgive  sins." — Mark  iL  lo. 

When  asserting  His  power  to  forgive  sins,  Jesus,  for  the 
first  time  in  our  Gospel,  called  Himself  the  Son  of  man. 
It  is  a  remarkable  phrase.  The  profound  reverence 
which  He  from  the  first  inspired,  restrained  all  other 
lips  from  using  it,  save  only  when  the  first  martyr  felt 
such  a  rush  of  sympathy  from  above  poured  into  his 
soul,  that  the  thought  of  Christ's  humanity  was  more 
moving  than  that  of  His  deity.  So  too  it  is  then 
alone  that  He  is  said  to  be  not  enthroned  in  heaven, 
but  standing,  '*  the  Son  of  man,  standing  on  the  right 
hand  of  God  "  (Acts  vii.  56).* 

•  The  exceptions  in  the  Revelation  are  only  apparent  St.  John  does 
not  call  Jesus  the  Son  of  man  (i.  13),  nor  see  Him,  but  only  the  t)rpe  ol 

Him,  standing  (v.  6). 


Marku.  lo.]  THE  SON  OF  MAN,  53 

What  then  does  this  title  imply  ?  Beyond  doubt 
it  is  derived  from  Daniel's  vision  :  "  Behold  there  came 
with  the  clouds  of  heaven  one  like  unto  a  Son  of  man, 
and  He  came  even  to  the  Ancient  of  Days  "  (vii.  1 3). 
And  it  was  by  the  bold  and  unequivocal  appropriation 
of  this  verse  that  Jesus  brought  upon  Himself  the 
judgment  of  the  council  (Matt.  xxvi.  64 ;  Mark  xiv.  62). 

Now  the  first  impression  which  the  phrase  in  Daniel 
produces  is  that  of  strong  and  designed  contrast 
between  the  Son  of  man  and  the  Eternal  God.  We 
wonder  at  seeing  man  "  brought  nigh  "  to  Deity.  Nor 
may  we  suppose  that  to  be  "  like  unto  a  Son  of  man," 
implies  only  an  appearance  of  manhood.  In  Daniel  the 
Messiah  can  be  cut  off.  When  Jesus  uses  the  epithet, 
and  even  when  He  quotes  the  prophecy,  He  not  only 
resembles  a  Son  of  man,  He  is  truly  such  ;  He  is  most 
frequently  "  the  Son  of  man,"  the  pre-eminent,  perhaps 
the  only  one.* 

But  while  the  expression  intimates  a  share  in  the 
lowliness  of  human  nature,  it  does  not  imply  a  lowly 
rank  among  men. 

Our  Lord  often  suggested  by  its  use  the  difference 
between  His  circumstances  and  His  dignity.  "The 
Son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  His  head : " 
"  Betrayest  thou  the  Son  of  man  with  a  kiss,"  in  each 
of  these  we  feel  that  the  title  asserts  a  claim  to  different 
treatment.  And  in  the  great  verse,  God  ^'  hath  given 
Him  authority  to  execute  judgment,  because  He  is  the 
Son  of  man,"  we  discern  that  although  human  hands 
are  chosen  as  fittest  to  do  judgment  upon  humanity, 
yet  His  extraordinary  dignity  is  also  taken  into  account. 

*  And  this  proves  beyond  question  that  He  did  not  merely  follow 
Ezekiel  in  applying  to  himself  the  epithet  as  if  it  meant  a  son  among 
many  sons  of  men,  but  took  the  description  in  Daniel  for  His  own. 
Ezekiel  himself  indeed  never  employs  the  phrase  :  he  only  records  it. 


54  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

The  title  belongs  to  our  Lord's  humiliation,  but  is  far 
from  an  additional  abasement ;  it  asserts  His  supremacy 
over  those  whom  He  is  not  ashamed  to  call  brethren. 

We  all  are  sons  of  men  ;  and  Jesus  used  the  phrase 
when  He  promised  that  all  manner  of  sins  and  blas- 
phemies shall  be  forgiven  to  us.  But  there  is  a  higher 
sense  in  which,  among  thousands  of  the  ignoble,  we 
single  out  one  "real  man  ;"  and  in  this  sense,  as  fulfilling 
the  idea,  Jesus  was  the  Second  Man.  What  a  difference 
exists  between  the  loftiest  sons  of  vulgar  men,  and  the 
Son  of  our  complete  humanity,  of  the  race,  "  of  Man." 
The  pre-eminence  even  of  our  best  and  greatest  is 
fragmentary  and  incomplete.  In  their  veins  runs  but  a 
portion  of  the  rich  life-blood  of  the  race  :  but  a  share  of 
its  energy  throbs  in  the  greatest  bosom.  We  seldom 
find  the  typical  thinker  in  the  typical  man  of  action. 
Originality  of  purpose  and  of  means  are  not  commonly 
united.  To  know  all  that  hoHness  embraces,  we  must 
combine  the  energies  of  one  saint  with  the  gentler  graces 
of  a  second  and  the  spiritual  insight  of  a  third.  There 
is  no  man  of  genius  who  fails  to  make  himself  the  child 
of  his  nation  and  his  age,  so  that  Shakespeare  would  be 
impossible  in  France,  Hugo  in  Germany,  Goethe  in  Eng- 
land. Two  great  nations  slay  their  kings  and  surrender 
their  liberties  to  military  dictators,  but  Napoleon  would 
have  been  unendurable  to  us,  and  Cromwell  ridiculous 
across  the  channel. 

Large  allowances  are  to  be  made  for  the  Greek  in 
Plato,  the  Roman  in  Epictetus,  before  we  can  learn  of 
them.  Each  and  all  are  the  sons  of  their  tribe  and 
century,  not  of  all  mankind  and  all  time.  But  who 
will  point  out  the  Jewish  warp  in  any  word  or  institu- 
tion of  Jesus?  In  the  new  man  which  is  after  His 
image  there  cannot  be  Greek  and  Jew,  circumcision  and 


Mark  it  la]  THE  SON  OF  MAN.  55 

uncircumcision,  barbarian,  Scythian,  bondman,  free- 
man, but  Christ  is  all  and  in  all,  something  of  Him 
represented  by  each,  all  of  them  concentrated  in  Him. 
He  alone  speaks  to  all  men  without  any  foreign  accent, 
and  He  alone  is  recognised  and  understood  as  widely 
as  the  voices  of  nature,  as  the  sigh  of  waves  and  breezes, 
and  the  still  endurance  of  the  stars.  Reading  the 
Gospels,  we  become  aware  that  four  writers  of  widely 
different  bias  and  temperament  have  all  found  an  equally 
congenial  subject,  so  that  each  has  given  a  portrait 
harmonious  with  the  others,  and  yet  unique.  It  is 
because  the  sum  total  of  humanity  is  in  Christ,  that  no 
single  writer  could  have  told  His  story. 

But  now  consider  what  this  implies.  It  demands  an 
example  from  which  lonely  women  and  heroic  leaders 
of  action  should  alike  take  fire.  It  demands  that  He 
should  furnish  meditation  for  sages  in  the  closet,  and 
should  found  a  kingdom  more  brilliant  than  those  of 
conquerors.  It  demands  that  He  should  strike  out  new 
paths  towards  new  objects,  and  be  supremely  original 
without  deviating  from  what  is  truly  sane  and  human, 
for  any  selfish  or  cruel  or  unwholesome  joy.  It  demands 
the  gentleness  of  a  sheep  before  her  shearers,  and  such 
burning  wrath  as  seven  times  over  denounced  against 
the  hypocrites  of  Jerusalem  woe  and  the  damnation  of 
hell.  It  demands  the  sensibilities  which  made  Gethse- 
mane  dreadful,  and  the  strength  which  made  Calvary 
sublime.  It  demands  that  when  we  approach  Him  we 
should  learn  to  feel  the  awe  of  other  worlds,  the  near- 
ness of  God,  the  sinfulness  of  sin,  the  folly  of  laying  up 
much  goods  for  many  years ;  that  life  should  be  made 
solemn  and  profound,  but  yet  that  it  should  not  be 
darkened  nor  depressed  unduly ;  that  nature  and  man 
should  be  made  dear  to  us,  Httle  children,  and  sinners 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 


who  are  scorned  yet  who  love  much,  and  lepers  who 
stand  afar  off — ^yes,  and  even  the  lilies  of  the  field,  and 
the  fowls  of  the  air ;  that  He  should  not  be  unaware  of 
the  silent  processes  of  nature  which  bears  fruit  of  itself, 
of  sunshine  and  rain,  and  the  fury  of  storms  and 
torrents,  and  the  leap  of  the  lightning  across  all  the. 
sky.  Thus  we  can  bring  to  Jesus  every  anxiety  and 
every  hope,  for  He,  and  only  He,  was  tempted  in  all 
points  like  unto  us.  Universality  of  power,  of  sym- 
pathy, and  of  influence,  is  the  import  of  this  title 
which  Jesus  claims.  And  that  demand  Jesus  only  has 
satisfied,  Who  is  the  Master  of  Sages,  the  Friend  of 
sinners,  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  and  the  King  of  kings, 
the  one  perfect  blossom  on  the  tree  of  our  humanity, 
the  ideal  of  our  nature  incarnate,  the  Second  Adam 
in  Whom  the  fulness  of  the  race  is  visible.  The 
Second  Man  is  the  Lord  from  Heaven.  And  this 
strange  and  solitary  grandeur  He  foretold,  when  He 
took  to  Himself  this  title,  itself  equally  strange  and 
solitary,  the  Son  of  man. 

THE   CALL  AND  FEAST  OF  LEVL 

**  And  He  went  forth  again  by  the  sea  side ;  and  all  the  multitude 
resorted  unto  Him,  and  He  taught  them.  And  as  He  passed  by,  He 
\aw  Levi  the  son  of  Alphaeus  sitting  at  the  place  of  toll,  and  He  saith 
into  him,  Follow  Me.  And  he  arose  and  followed  Him.  And  it  came 
to  pass,  that  He  was  sitting  at  meat  in  his  house,  and  many  publicans 
and  sinnerf  sat  down  with  Jesus  and  His  disciples :  for  there  were 
many,  and  they  followed  Him.  And  the  scribes  of  the  Pharisees, 
when  they  saw  that  He  was  eating  with  the  sinners  and  publicans, 
said  unto  His  disciples,  He  eateth  and  drinketh  with  publicans  and 
sinners.  And  when  Jesus  heard  it,  He  saith  unto  them,  They  that  are 
whole  have  no  need  of  a  physician,  but  they  that  are  sick  :  I  came  not 
to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners."— Mark  ii.  13-17  (R.V.). 

Jesus  loved  the  open  air.  His  custom  when  teaching 
was  to  point  to  the  sower,  the  lily,  and  the  bird.     He 


Mark ii.  13-17]     THE   CALL  AND  FEAST  OF  LEVI,  57 

is  no  pale  recluse  emerging  from  a  library  to  instruct, 
in  the  dim  religious  light  of  cloisters,  a  world  unknown 
except  by  books.  Accordingly  we  find  Him  "again 
by  the  sea-side."  And  however  the  scribes  and 
Pharisees  may  have  continued  to  murmur,  the  multi- 
tudes resorted  to  Him,  confiding  in  the  evidence  of 
their  experience,  which  never  saw  it  on  this  fashion. 

That  argument  was  perfectly  logical ;  it  was  an  in- 
duction, yet  it  led  them  to  a  result  curiously  the  reverse 
of  theirs  who  reject  miracles  for  being  contrary  to  expe- 
rience. "  Yes,"  they  said,  "  we  appeal  to  experience, 
but  the  conclusion  is  that  good  deeds  which  it  cannot 
parallel  must  come  directly  from  the  Giver  of  all  good." 

Such  good  deeds  continue.  The  creed  of  Christ  has 
re-formed  Europe,  it  is  awakening  Asia,  it  has  trans- 
formed morality,  and  imposed  new  virtues  on  the  con- 
science. It  is  the  one  religion  for  the  masses,  the 
lapsed,  and  indeed  for  the  skk  in  body  as  truly  as  in 
soul ;  for  while  science  discourses  with  enthusiasm 
upon  progress  by  the  rejectic  n  of  the  less  fit,  our  faith 
cherishes  these  in  hospitals,  i  sylums,  and  retreats,  and 
prospers  by  lavishing  care  \  pon  the  outcast  and  re- 
jected of  the  world.  Now  th.  s  transcends  experience : 
we  never  saw  it  on  this  fashion;  it  is  supernatural. 
Or  else  let  scientific  atheisn\  produce  its  reformed 
magdalens,  and  its  homes  for  the  hopelessly  diseased 
and  imbecile,  and  all  "  the  wi  akest "  who  go,  as  she 
tenderly  assures  us,  "  to  the  wall." 

Jesus  now  gave  a  signal  proof  of  His  independence 
of  human  judgment,  His  care  for  the  despised  and  re- 
jected. For  such  a  one  He  completed  the  rupture 
between  Himself  and  the  rulers  of  the  people. 

Sitting  at  the  receipt  of  toll,  in  the  act  of  levying 
from  his  own  nation  the  dues  of  the  conqueror,  Levi 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


the  publican  received  the  call  to  become  an  Apostle 
and  Evangelist.  It  was  a  resolute  defiance  of  the 
Pharisaic  judgment.  It  was  a  memorable  rebuke  for 
those  timid  slaves  of  expediency  who  nurse  their  in- 
fluence, refuse  to  give  offence,  fear  to  "  mar  their  use- 
fulness "  by  "  compromising  themselves,"  and  so  make 
their  whole  life  one  abject  compromise,  and  let  all 
emphatic  usefulness  go  by. 

Here  is  one  upon  whom  the  bigot  scowls  more  darkly 
still  than  upon  Jesus  Himself,  by  whom  the  Roman 
yoke  is  pressed  upon  Hebrew  necks,  an  apostate  in 
men's  judgment  from  the  national  faith  and  hope.  And 
such  judgments  sadly  verify  themselves;  a  despised 
man  easily  becomes  despicable. 

But  however  Levi  came  by  so  strange  and  hateful  an 
office,  Jesus  saw  in  him  no  slavish  earner  of  vile  bread 
by  doing  the  foreigner's  hateful  work.  He  was  more 
willing  than  they  who  scorned  him  to  follow  the  true 
King  of  Israel.  It  is  even  possible  that  the  national 
humiliations  to  which  his  very  office  testified  led  him 
to  other  aspirations,  longings  after  a  spiritual  kingdom 
beyond  reach  of  the  sword  or  the  exactions  of  Rome. 
For  his  Gospel  is  full  of  the  true  kingdom  of  heaven, 
the  spiritual  fulfilments  of  prophecy,  and  the  relations 
between  the  Old  Testament  and  the  Messiah. 

Here  then  is  an  opportunity  to  show  the  sneering 
scribe  and  carping  Pharisee  how  little  their  cynical 
criticism  weighs  with  Jesus.  He  calls  the  despised 
agent  of  the  heathen  to  His  side,  and  is  obeyed.  And 
now  the  name  of  the  publican  is  engraven  upon  one  of 
the  foundations  of  the  city  of  God. 

Nor  did  Jesus  refuse  to  carry  such  condescension  to 
its  utmost  Hmit,  eating  and  drinking  in  Levi's  house 
with  many  publicans  and  sinners,  who  were  already 


Mark ii.  13-17.]     THE   CALL  AND  FEAST  OF  LEVI.  $9 

attracted  by  His  teaching,  and  now  rejoiced  in  His 
familiarity.  Just  in  proportion  as  He  offended  the 
Pharisaic  scribes,  so  did  He  inspire  with  new  hope  the 
unhappy  classes  who  were  taught  to  consider  them- 
selves castaway.  His  very  presence  was  medicinal,  a 
rebuke  to  foul  words  and  thoughts,  an  outward  and 
visible  sign  of  grace.  It  brought  pure  air  and  sunshine 
into  a  fever-stricken  chamber. 

And  this  was  His  justification  when  assailed.  He 
had  borne  healing  to  the  sick.  He  had  called  sinners 
to  repentance.  And  therefore  His  example  has  a 
double  message.  It  rebukes  those  who  look  curiously 
on  the  intercourse  of  religious  people  with  the  world, 
who  are  plainly  of  opinion  that  the  leaven  should 
be  hid  anywhere  but  in  the  meal,  who  can  never 
fairly  understand  St.  Paul's  permission  to  go  to  an 
idolater's  feast.  But  it  gives  no  licence  to  go  where 
we  cannot  be  a  healing  influence,  where  the  light 
must  be  kept  in  a  dark  lantern  if  not  under  a  bushel, 
where,  instead  of  drawing  men  upward,  we  shall  only 
confirm  their  indolent  self-satisfaction. 

Christ's  reason  for  seeking  out  the  sick,  the  lost,  is 
ominous  indeed  for  the  self-satisfied.  The  whole  have 
no  need  of  a  physician ;  He  came  not  to  call  the 
righteous.  Such  persons,  whatever  else  they  be,  are 
not  Christians  until  they  come  to  a  different  mind. 

In  calling  Himself  the  Physician  of  sick  souls,  Jesus 
made  a  startling  claim,  which  becomes  more  emphatic 
T?her  we  observe  that  He  also  quoted  the  words  of 
Hosea,  "I  will  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice"  (Matt. 
ix.  13;  Hos.  vi.  6).  For  this  expression  occurs  in  that 
chapter  which  tells  how  the  Lord  Himself  hath  smitten 
and  will  bind  us  up.  And  the  complaint  is  just  before  it 
that  when  Ephraim  saw  his  sickness  and  Judah  saw 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK 


his  wound,  then  went  Ephraim  to  Assyria  and  sent  to 
king  Jareb,  but  he  is  not  able  to  heal  you,  neither  shall 
he  cure  you  of  your  wound  (Hos.  v.  13-vi.  l).  As 
the  Lord  Himself  hath  torn,  so  He  must  heal. 

Now  Jesus  comes  to  that  part  of  Israel  which  the 
Pharisees  despise  for  being  wounded  and  diseased,  and 
justifies  Himself  by  words  which  must,  from  their 
context,  have  reminded  every  Jew  of  the  declaration 
that  God  is  the  physician,  and  it  is  vain  to  seek  healing 
elsewhere.  And  immediately  afterwards,  He  claims 
to  be  the  Bridegroom,  whom  also  Hosea  spoke  of  as 
divine.  Yet  men  profess  that  only  in  St.  John  does 
He  advance  such  claims  that  we  should  ask.  Whom 
makest  Thou  Thyself?  Let  them  try  the  experiment, 
then,  of  putting  such  words  into  the  lips  of  any  mortal. 

The  choice  of  the  apostles,  and  most  of  all  that  of 
Levi,  illustrates  the  power  of  the  cross  to  elevate 
obscure  and  commonplace  lives.  He  was  born,  to  all 
appearance,  to  an  uneventful,  unobserved  existence. 
We  read  no  remarkable  action  of  the  Apostle  Matthew ; 
as  an  Evangelist  he  is  simple,  orderly  and  accurate,  as 
becomes  a  man  of  business,  but  the  graphic  energy  of 
St.  Mark,  the  pathos  of  St.  Luke,  the  profundity  of 
St.  John  are  absent.  Yet  his  greatness  will  outlive  the 
world. 

Now  as  Christ  provided  nobility  and  a  career  for 
this  man  of  the  people,  so  He  does  for  all.  *'  Are  all 
apostles?"  Nay,  but  all  may  become  pillars  in  the 
temple  of  eternity.  The  gospel  finds  men  plunged  in 
monotony,  in  the  routine  of  callings  which  machinery 
and  the  subdivision  of  labour  make  ever  more  colour- 
less, spiritless,  and  dull.  It  is  a  small  thing  that 
it  introduces  them  to  a  literature  more  sublime  than 
Milton,  more  sincere  and  direct  than  Shakespere.     It 


Markii.iS.]    CONTROVERSY  CONCERNING  FASTING.      01 

brings  their  little  lives  into  relationship  with  eternity. 
It  braces  them  for  a  vast  struggle,  watched  by  a 
great  cloud  of  witnesses.  It  gives  meaning  and  beauty 
to  the  sordid  present,  and  to  the  future  a  hope  full 
of  immortality.  It  brings  the  Christ  of  God  nearer 
to  the  humblest  than  when  of  old  He  ate  and  drank 
with  publicans  and  sinners. 

THE    CONTROVERSY   CONCERNING   FASTING, 

"  And  John's  disciples  and  the  Pharisees  were  fasting  :  and  they  come 
and  say  unto  Him,  Why  do  John's  disciples  and  the  disciples  of  the 
Pharisees  fast,  but  Thy  disciples  fast  not?  "—Mark  il  i8  (R.V.). 

The  Pharisees  had  just  complained  to  the  disciples  that 
Jesus  ate  and  drank  in  questionable  company.  Now 
they  join  with  the  followers  of  the  ascetic  Baptist  in 
complaining  to  Jesus  that  His  disciples  eat  and  drink 
at  improper  seasons,  when  others  fast.  And  as  Jesus 
had  then  replied,  that  being  a  Physician,  He  was 
naturally  found  among  the  sick,  so  He  now  answered, 
that  being  the  Bridegroom,  fasting  in  His  presence  is 
impossible :  "  Can  the  sons  of  the  bridechamber  fast 
while  the  Bridegroom  is  with  them  ?  "  A  new  spirit  is 
working  in  Christianity,  far  too  mightily  to  be  restrained 
by  ancient  usages ;  if  the  new  wine  be  put  into  such 
wineskins  it  will  spoil  them,  and  itself  be  lost. 

Hereupon  three  remarkable  subjects  call  for  attention : 
the  immense  personal  claim  advanced ;  the  view  which 
Christ  takes  of  fasting ;  and,  arising  out  of  this,  the 
principle  which  He  applies  to  all  external  rites  and 
ceremonies. 

I.  Jesus  does  not  inquire  whether  the  fasts  of  other 
men  were  unreasonable  or  not.  In  any  case,  He  de- 
clares that  His  mere  presence  put  everything  on  a  new 
footing  for  His  followers    who  could  not  fast    simply 


GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 


because  He  was  by.  Thus  He  assumes  a  function  high 
above  that  of  any  prophet  or  teacher :  He  not  only 
reveals  duty,  as  a  lamp  casts  light  upon  the  compass 
by  which  men  steer ;  but  He  modifies  duty  itself,  as 
iron  deflects  the  needle. 

This  is  because  He  is  the  Bridegroom. 

The  disciples  of  John  would  hereupon  recall  his 
words  of  self-effacement ;  that  He  was  only  the  friend 
of  the  Bridegroom,  whose  fullest  joy  was  to  hear  the 
Bridegroom's  exultant  voice. 

But  no  Jew  could  forget  the  Old  Testament  use  of 
the  phrase.  It  is  clear  from  St.  Matthew  that  this 
controversy  followed  immediately  upon  the  last,  when 
Jesus  assumed  a  function  ascribed  to  God  Himself  by 
the  very  passage  from  Hosea  which  He  then  quoted. 
Then  He  was  the  Physician  for  the  soul's  diseases; 
now  He  is  the  Bridegroom,  in  Whom  centre  its  hopes,  its 
joys,  its  affections,  its  new  life.  That  position  in  the 
spiritual  existence  cannot  be  given  away  from  God 
Without  idolatry.  The  same  Hosea  who  makes  God  the 
Healer,  gives  to  Him  also,  in  the  most  explicit  words, 
what  Jesus  now  claims  for  Himself.  **  I  will  betroth 
thee  unto  Me  for  ever  ...  I  will  even  betroth  thee 
unto  Me  in  faithfulness,  and  thou  shalt  know  the  Lord  ' 
(ii.  19,  20).  Isaiah  too  declares  "thy  Maker  is  thy 
husband,"  and  "  as  the  bridegroom  rejoiceth  over  the 
bride,  so  shall  thy  God  rejoice  over  thee"  (liv.  5  ;  Ixii. 
5).  And  in  Jeremiah,  God  remembers  the  love  of 
Israel's  espousals,  who  went  after  Him  in  the  wilderness, 
in  a  land  that  was  not  sown  (ii.  2).  Now  all  this  is 
transferred  throughout  the  New  Testament  to  Jesus. 
The  Baptist  is  not  alone  in  this  respect.  St.  John  re- 
{^ards  the  Bride  as  the  wife  of  the  Lamb  (Rev.  xxi.  9), 
St.  Paul  would  fain  present  his  Corinthian  Church  as 


Mark  ii.  1 8.]      CONTROVERSY  CONCERNING  FASTING.      6j 

a  pure  virgin  to  Christ,  as  to  one  husband  (2  Cor. 
xi.  2).  For  him,  the  absolute  oneness  of  marriage  is  a 
mystery  of  the  union  betwixt  Christ  and  His  Church 
(Eph.  V  32).  If  Jesus  be  not  God,  then  a  relation 
hitherto  exclusively  belonging  to  Jehovah,  to  rob  Him 
of  which  is  the  adultery  of  the  soul,  has  been  systema- 
tically transferred  by  the  New  Testament  to  a  creature. 
His  glory  has  been  given  to  another. 

This  remarkable  change  is  clearly  the  work  of  Jesus 
Himself.  The  marriage  supper  of  which  He  spoke  is 
for  the  King's  son.  At  His  return  the  cry  will  be  heard, 
Behold  the  Bridegroom  cometh.  In  this  earliest 
passage  His  presence  causes  the  joy  of  the  Bride, 
who  said  to  the  Lord  in  the  Old  Testament,  Thou  art 
my  Husband  (Hosea  ii.  16). 

There  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  Gospel  of  St.  John 
a  passage  more  certainly  calculated  to  inspire,  when 
Christ's  dignity  was  assured  by  His  resurrection  and 
ascension,  the  adoration  which  His  Church  has  always 
paid  to  the  Lamb  in  the  midst  of  the  throne. 

II.  The  presence  of  the  Bridegroom  dispenses  with 
the  obligation  to  fast.  Yet  it  is  beyond  denial  that 
fasting  as  a  religious  exercise  comes  within  the  circle  of 
New  Testament  sanctions.  Jesus  Himself,  when  taking 
our  burdens  upon  Him,  as  He  had  stooped  to  the 
baptism  of  repentance,  condescended  also  to  fast.  He 
taught  His  disciples  when  they  fasted  to  anoint  their 
head  and  wash  their  face.  The  mention  of  fasting 
is  bdeed  a  later  addition  to  the  words  '^  this  kind  (of 
demon)  goeth  not  out  but  by  prayer"  (Mark  ix.  29), 
but  we  know  that  the  prophets  and  teachers  of  Antioch 
were  fasting  when  bidden  to  consecrate  Barnabas  and 
Saul,  and  they  fasted  again  and  prayed  before  they 
laid  their  hands  upon  them  (Acts  xiii.  2,  3). 


GOSPEL   OF  S'l.   MARK, 


Thus  it  is  right  to  fast,  at  times  and  from  one  point 
of  view  ;  but  at  other  times,  and  from  Jewish  and  formal 
motives,  it  is  unnatural  and  mischievous.  It  is  right 
when  the  Bridegroom  is  taken  away,  a  phrase  which 
certainly  does  not  cover  all  this  space  between  the 
Ascension  and  the  Second  Advent,  since  Jesus  still 
reveals  Himself  to  His  own  though  not  unto  the  world, 
and  is  with  His  Church  all  the  days.  Scripture  has 
no  countenance  for  the  notion  that  we  lost  by  the 
Ascension  in  privilege  or  joy.  But  when  the  body 
would  fain  rise  up  against  the  spirit,  it  must  be  kept 
under  and  brought  into  subjection  (i  Cor.  ix.  27). 
When  the  closest  domestic  joys  would  interrupt  the 
seclusion  of  the  soul  with  God,  they  may  be  suspended, 
though  but  for  a  time  (i  Cor.  vii.  5).  And  when  the 
supreme  blessing  of  intercourse  with  God,  the  presence 
of  the  Bridegroom,  is  obscured  or  forfeited  through  sin, 
it  will  then  be  as  inevitable  that  the  loyal  heart  should 
turn  away  from  worldly  pleasures,  as  that  the  first 
disciples  should  reject  these  in  the  dread  hours  of  their 
bereavement. 

Thus  Jesus  abolished  the  superstition  that  grace  may 
be  had  by  a  mechanical  observance  of  a  prescribed 
regimen  at  an  appointed  time.  He  did  not  deny,  but 
rather  implied  the  truth,  that  body  and  soul  act  and 
counteract  so  that  spiritual  impressions  may  be  weakened 
and  forfeited  by  untimely  indulgence  of  the  flesh. 

By  such  teaching,  Jesus  carried  forward  the  doctrine 
already  known  to  the  Old  Testament.  There  it  was 
distinctly  announced  that  the  return  from  exile  abrogated 
those  fasts  which  commemorated  national  calamities, 
so  that  "  the  fast  of  the  fourth  month,  and  of  the  fifth, 
and  of  the  seventh  and  of  the  tenth  shall  be  to  the 
house  of  Israel  joy  and  gladness,  cheerful  feasts  "  (Zech. 


Marku.  i8.]     CONTROVERSY  CONCERNING  FASTING.       6$ 

vii.  3,  viii.  19).  Even  while  these  fasts  had  lasted  they 
had  been  futile,  because  they  were  only  formal.  "  When 
ye  fasted  and  mourned,  did  ye  at  all  fast  unto  me  ?  And 
when  ye  eat,  and  when  ye  drink,  do  ye  not  eat  for  your- 
selves, and  drink  for  yourselves?"  (Zech.  vii.  5,  6).  And 
Isaiah  had  plainly  laid  down  the  great  rule,  that  a  fast 
and  an  acceptable  day  unto  the  Lord  was  not  a  day  to 
afflict  the  soul  and  bow  the  head,  but  to  deny  and 
discipline  our  selfishness  for  some  good  end,  to  loose 
the  bonds  of  wickedness,  to  undo  the  bands  of  (;he  yoke, 
and  to  let  the  oppressed  go  free,  to  deal  bread  to  the 
hungry,  and  to  bring  home  the  poor  that  is  cast  out 
(Isa.  Iviii.  5-7). 

The  true  spirit  of  fasting  breathes  an  ampler  breath 
in  any  of  the  thousand  forms  of  Christian  self-denial, 
than  in  those  petty  abstinences,  those  microscopic 
observances,  which  move  our  wonder  less  by  the  super- 
stition which  expects  them  to  bring  grace  than  by  the 
childishness  which  expects  them  to  have  any  effect 
whatever. 

III.  Jesus  now  applies  a  great  principle  to  all 
external  rites  and  ceremonies.  They  have  their  value. 
As  the  wineskin  retains  the  wine,  so  are  feelings  and  as- 
pirations aided,  and  even  preserved,  by  suitable  external 
forms.  Without  these,  emotion  would  lose  itself  for 
want  of  restraint,  wasted,  like  spilt  wine,  by  diffuse- 
ness.  And  if  the  forms  are  unsuitable  and  outworn, 
the  same  calamity  happens,  the  strong  new  feeHngs 
break  through  them,  "  and  the  wine  perisheth,  and  the 
skins."  In  this  respect,  how  many  a  sad  experience  of 
the  Church  attests  the  wisdom  of  her  Lord ;  what  losses 
have  been  suffered  in  the  struggle  between  forms  that 
had  stiffened  into  archaic  ceremonialism  and  new  zeal 
demanding  scope  for  its  energy,  between  the  antiquated 


66  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 

phrases  of  a  bygone  age  and  the  new  experience,  know- 
ledge and  requirements  of  the  next,  between  the  frosty 
precisions  of  unsympathetic  age  and  the  innocent 
warmth  and  freshness  of  the  young,  too  often,  alas, 
lost  to  their  Master  in  passionate  revolt  against  re- 
straints which  He  neither  imposed  nor  smiled  upon. 

Therefore  the  coming  of  a  new  revelation  meant  the 
repeal  of  old  observances,  and  Christ  refused  to  sew 
His  new  faith  like  a  patchwork  upon  ancient  institu- 
tions, of  which  it  would  only  complete  the  ruin.  Thus 
He  anticipated  the  decision  of  His  apostles  releasing 
the  Gentiles  from  the  law  of  Moses.  And  He  bestowed 
on  His  Church  an  adaptiveness  to  various  times  and 
places,  not  always  remembered  by  missionaries  among 
the  heathen,  by  fastidious  critics  of  new  movements  at 
home,  nor  by  men  who  would  reduce  the  lawfulness 
of  modern  agencies  to  a  question  of  precedent  and 
archaeology. 

THE  SABBATH. 

'*  And  it  came  to  pass,  that  He  was  going  on  the  sabbath  day  through 
the  cornfields  ;  and  I  is  disciples  began,  as  they  went,  to  pluck  the  ears 
of  corn.  And  the  Piarisees  said  unto  Him,  Behold,  why  do  they  on 
the  sabbath  day  that  which  is  not  lawful  ?  And  Pie  said  unto  them, 
Did  ye  never  read  what  David  did,  when  he  had  need,  and  was  an 
hungred,  he,  and  they  that  were  with  him  ?  How  he  entered  into  the 
house  of  God  when  Abiathar  was  high  priest,  and  did  eat  the  shew- 
bread,  which  it  is  not  lawful  to  eat  save  for  the  priests,  and  gave  also 
to  them  that  were  with  him  ?  And  He  said  unto  them,  The  sabbath 
was  made  for  man,  and  not  man  for  the  sabbath :  so  that  the  Son  oi 
man  is  Lord  even  of  the  sabbath."— Mark  ii.  23-28  (R.V.). 

Twice  in  succession  Christ  had  now  asserted  the  free- 
dom of  the  soul  against  His  Jewish  antagonists.  He 
was  free  to  eat  with  sinners,  for  their  good,  and  His 
followers   were   free   to   disregard   fasts,   because   the 


Mark ii. 23-28.]  THE  SABBATH, 


Bridegroom  was  with  them.  A  third  attack  in  the 
same  series  is  prepared.  The  Pharisees  now  take 
stronger  ground,  since  the  law  itself  enforced  the 
obligation  of  the  Sabbath.  Even  Isaiah,  the  most 
free-spirited  of  all  the  prophets,  in  the  same  passage 
where  he  denounced  the  fasts  of  the  self-righteous, 
bade  men  to  keep  their  foot  from  the  Sabbath  (Isa. 
Iviii.  13,  14).  Here  they  felt  sure  of  their  position ;  and 
when  they  found  the  disciples,  in  a  cornfield  where  the 
long  stems  had  closed  over  the  path,  "  making  a  way," 
which  was  surely  forbidden  labour,  and  this  by 
"plucking  the  ears,"  which  was  reaping,  and  then 
rubbing, these  in  their  hands  to  reject  the  chaff,  which 
was  winnowing,  they  cried  out  in  affected  horror. 
Behold,  why  do  they  that  which  is  not  lawful  ?  To 
them  it  mattered  nothing  that  the  disciples  really 
hungered,  and  that  abstinence,  rather  than  the  slight 
exertion  which  they  condemned,  would  cause  real  in- 
convenience and  unrest. 

Perhaps  the  answer  of  our  Lord  has  been  as  much 
misunderstood  as  any  other  words  He  ever  spoke.  It 
has  been  assumed  that  He  spoke  across  the  boundary 
between  the  new  dispensation  and  the  old,  as  One 
from  whose  movements  the  restraints  of  Judaism  had 
entirely  fallen  away,  to  those  who  were  still  entangled 
And  it  has  been  inferred  that  the  Fourth  Command- 
ment was  no  more  than  such  a  restraint,  now  thrown 
off  among  the  rest.  But  this  is  quite  a  misapprehen- 
sion both  of  His  position  and  theirs.  On  earth  He 
was  a  minister  of  the  circumcision.  He  bade  His 
disciples  to  observe  and  do  all  that  was  commanded 
from  the  seat  of  Moses.  And  it  is  by  Old  Testament 
precedent,  and  from  Old  Testament  principles,  that  He 
now  refutes  the  objection  of  the  Pharisees.     This  is 


68  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

what  gives  the  passage  half  its  charm,  this  discovery 
of  freedom  like  our  own  in  the  heart  of  the  stern  old 
Hebrew  discipline,  as  a  fountain  and  flowers  on  the  face 
of  a  granite  crag,  this  demonstration  that  all  v/e  now 
enjoy  is  developed  from  what  already  lay  in  gern 
enfolded  in  the  law. 

David  and  his  followers,  when  at  extremity,  had 
eaten  the  shewbread  which  it  was  not  lawful  for  them 
to  eat.  It  is  a  striking  assertion.  We  should  proba- 
bly have  sought  a  softer  phrase.  We  should  have  said 
that  in  other  circumstances  it  would  have  been  unlaw- 
ful, that  only  necessity  made  it  lawful ;  we  should  have 
refused  to  look  straight  in  the  face  the  naked  ugly  fact 
that  David  broke  the  law.  But  Jesus  was  not  afraid 
of  any  fact.  He  saw  and  declared  that  the  priests  ir 
the  Temple  itself  profaned  the  Sabbath  when  the} 
baked  the  shewbread  and  when  they  circumcised  chil- 
dren. They  were  blameless,  not  because  the  Fourth 
Commandment  remained  inviolate,  but  because  circum- 
stances made  it  right  for  them  to  profane  the  Sabbath 
And  His  disciples  were  blameless  also,  upon  the  sam« 
principle,  that  the  larger  obligation  overruled  the 
lesser,  that  all  ceremonial  observance  gave  way  to 
human  need,  that  mercy  is  a  better  thing  than  sacri- 
fice. 

And  thus  it  appeared  that  the  objectors  were  them- 
selves the  transgressors;  they  had  condemned  the 
guiltless. 

A  little  reflection  will  show  that  our  Lord's  bold 
method.  His  startling  admission  that  David  and  the 
priests  alike  did  that  which  was  not  lawful,  is  much 
more  truly  reverential  than  our  soft  modern  compro- 
mises, our  shifty  devices  for  persuading  ourselves  that 
in  various  permissible  and   even  necessary  deviations 


Mark ii.  23-28.]  THE  SABBATH. 


from  prescribed  observances,  there  is  no  real  infraction 
of  any  law  whatever. 

To  do  this,  we  reduce  to  a  minimum  the  demands  of 
the  precept.  We  train  ourselves  to  think,  not  of  its 
full  extension,  but  of  what  we  can  compress  it  into. 
Therefore,  in  future,  even  when  no  urgency  exists,  the 
precept  has  lost  all  beyond  this  minimum  ;  its  sharp 
edges  are  filed  away.  Jesus  leaves  it  to  resume  all 
its  energy,  when  mercy  no  longer  forbids  the  sacri- 
fice. 

The  text,  then,  says  nothing  about  the  abolition  of 
a  Day  of  Rest.  On  the  contrary,  it  declares  that  this 
day  is  hot  a  Jewish  but  a  universal  ordinance,  it  is 
made  for  man>  At  the  same  time,  it  refuses  to  place 
the  Sabbath  among  the  essential  and  inflexible  laws  of 
right  and  wrong.  It  is  made  for  man,  for  his  physical 
repose  and  spiritual  culture ;  man  was  not  made  for 
it,  as  he  is  for  purity,  truth,  and  godliness.  Better  for 
him  to  die  than  outrage  these ;  they  are  the  laws  of 
his  very  being ;  he  is  royal  by  serving  them ;  in  obey- 
ing them  he  obeys  his  God.  It  is  not  thus  with 
anything  external,  ceremonial,  any  ritual,  any  rule 
of  conduct,  however  universal  be  its  range,  however 
permanent  its  sanctions.  The  Sabbath  is  such  a  rule, 
permanent,  far-reaching  as  humanity,  made  **  for  man." 
But  this  very  fact,  Jesus  tells  us,  is  the  reason  why  He 
Who  represented  the  race  and  its  interests,  was  "  Lord 
even  of  the  Sabbath." 

Let  those  who  deny  the  Divine  authority  of  this 
great  institution  ponder  well  the  phrase  which  asserts 
its  universal  range,  and  which  finds  it  a  large  assertion 
of  the  mastery  of  Christ  that  He  is  Lord  ''  even  of  the 
Sabbath."  But  those  who  have  scruples  about  the 
change  of  day  by  which  honour  is  paid  to  Christ's 


70  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 

resurrection,  and  those  who  would  make  burdensome 
and  dreary,  a  horror  to  the  young  and  a  torpor  to  the 
old,  what  should  be  called  a  delight  and  honourable, 
these  should  remember  that  the  ordinance  is  blighted, 
root  and  branch,  when  it  is  forbidden  to  minister  to 
the  physical  or  spiritual  welfare  of  the  human  race. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    WITHERED  HAND, 

*  And  He  entered  again  into  the  synagogue  ;  and  there  was  a  man 
there  which  had  his  hand  withered.  And  they  watched  Him,  whether 
He  would  heal  him  on  the  sabbath  day  ;  that  they  might  accuse  Him. 
And  He  saith  unto  the  man  that  had  his  hand  withered,  Stand  forth. 
And  He  saith  unto  them,  Is  it  lawful  on  the  sabbath  day  to  do  good 
or  to  do  harm  ?  to  save  a  life,  or  to  kill  ?  But  they  held  their  peace. 
And  when  He  had  looked  round  about  on  them  with  anger,  being 
grieved  at  the  hardening  of  their  heart,  He  saith  unto  the  man, 
Stretch  forth  thy  hand.  And  he  stretched  it  forth  :  and  his  hand  was 
restored.  And  the  Pharisees  went  out,  and  straightway  with  the  Hero- 
dians  took  counsel  against  Him,  how  they  might  destroy  Him." — 
Mark  iii.  i-6  (B.V.). 

IN  the  controversies  just  recorded,  we  have  recog- 
nised the  ideal  Teacher,  clear  to  discern  and  quick 
to  exhibit  the  decisive  point  at  issue,  careless  of  small 
pedantries,  armed  with  principles  and  precedents  which 
go  to  the  heart  of  the  dispute. 

But  the  perfect  man  must  be  competent  in  more  than 
theory ;  and  we  have  now  a  marvellous  example  of 
tact,  decision  and  self-control  in  action.  When  Sabbath 
observance  is  again  discussed,  his  enemies  have  re- 
solved to  push  matters  to  extremity.  They  watch,  no 
longer  to  cavil,  but  that  they  may  accuse  Him.  It  is 
in  the  synagogue ;  and  their  expectations  are  sharpened 
by  the  presence  of  a  pitiable  object,  a  man  whose  hand 
is  not  only  paralyzed  in  the  sinews,  but  withered  up 
and  hopeless.     St.  Luke  tells  us  that  it  was  the  right 


72  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 


hand,  which  deepened  his  misery.  And  St.  Matthew 
records  that  they  asked  Christ,  Is  it  lawful  to  heal  on 
the  Sabbath  day  ?  thus  urging  Him  by  a  challenge  to 
the  deed  which  they  condemned.  What  a  miserable 
state  of  mind  1  They  believe  that  Jesus  can  work  the 
cure,  since  this  is  the  very  basis  of  their  plot ;  and  yet 
their  hostility  is  not  shaken,  for  belief  in  a  miracle  is 
not  conversion ;  to  acknowledge  a  prodigy  is  one  thing, 
and  to  surrender  the  will  is  quite  another.  Or  how 
should  we  see  around  us  so  many  Christians  in  theory, 
reprobates  in  life  ?  They  long  to  see  the  man  healed, 
yet  there  is  no  compassion  in  this  desire,  hatred  urges 
them  to  wish  what  mercy  impels  Christ  to  grant.  But 
while  He  relieves  the  sufferer.  He  will  also  expose  their 
malice.  Therefore  He  makes  His  intention  public,  and 
whets  their  expectation,  by  calling  the  man  forth  into 
the  midst.  And  then  He  meets  their  question  with 
another :  Is  it  lawful  to  do  good  on  the  Sabbath  day  or 
evil,  to  save  life  or  to  kill  ?  And  when  they  preserved 
their  calculated  silence,  we  know  how  He  pressed  the 
question  home,  reminding  them  that  not  one  of  them 
would  fail  to  draw  His  own  sheep  out  of  a  pit  upon 
the  Sabbath  day.  Selfishness  made  the  difference,  for 
a  man  was  better  than  a  sheep,  but  did  not,  like  the 
sheep,  belong  to  them.  They  do  not  answer :  instead 
of  warning  Him  away  from  guilt,  they  eagerly  await 
the  incriminating  act :  we  can  almost  see  the  spiteful 
subtle  smile  playing  about  their  bloodless  lips;  and 
Jesus  marks  them  well.  He  looked  round  about  them 
in  anger,  but  not  in  bitter  personal  resentment,  for  He 
was  grieved  at  the  hardness  of  their  hearts,  and  pitied 
them  also,  even  while  enduring  such  contradiction  of 
sinners  against  Himself.  This  is  the  first  mention  by 
St.  Mark  of  that  impressive  gaze,  afterwards  so  frtquent 


Mark  iii.  i-6.]  THE    WITHERED  HAND.  73 

in  every  Gospel,  which  searched  the  scribe  who  answered 
well,  and  melted  the  heart  of  Peter. 

And  now,  by  one  brief  utterance,  their  prey  breaks 
through  their  meshes.  Any  touch  would  have  been  a 
work,  a  formal  infracrtion  of  the  law.  Therefore  there 
is  no  touch,  neither  is  the  helpless  man  bidden  to  take 
up  any  burden,  or  instigated  to  the  slightest  ritual  irre- 
gularity. Jesus  only  bids  him  do  what  was  forbidden 
to  none,  but  what  had  been  impossible  for  him  to  per- 
form ;  and  the  man  succeeds,  he  does  stretch  forth  his 
hand  :  he  is  healed  :  the  work  is  done.  Yet  nothing 
has  been  done ;  as  a  work  of  healing  not  even  a  word 
has  been  said.  For  He  who  would  so  often  defy  their 
malice  has  chosen  to  show  once  how  easily  He  can 
evade  it,  and  not  one  of  them  is  more  free  from  any 
blame,  however  technical,  than  He.  The  Pharisees  are 
so  utterly  baffled,  so  helpless  in  His  hands,  so  "  filled 
with  madness  "  that  they  invoke  against  this  new  foe 
the  help  of  their  natural  enemies,  the  Herodians. 
These  appear  on  the  stage  because  the  immense  spread 
of  the  Messianic  movement  endangers  the  Idumaean 
dynasty.  When  first  the  wise  men  sought  an  infant 
King  of  the  Jews,  the  Herod  of  that  day  was  troubled. 
That  instinct  which  struck  at  His  cradle  is  now  re- 
awakened, and  will  not  slumber  again  until  the  fatal 
day  when  the  new  Herod  shall  set  Him  at  nought  and 
mock  Him.  In  the  meanwhile  these  strange  allies 
perplex  themselves  with  the  hard  question,  How  is  it 
possible  to  destroy  so  acute  a  foe. 

While  observing  their  malice,  and  the  exquisite  skill 
which  baffles  it,  we  must  not  lose  sight  of  other  lessons. 
It  is  to  be  observed  that  no  offence  to  hypocrites,  no 
danger  to  Himself,  prevented  Jesus  from  removing 
human  suffering.     And  also  that  He  expects  from  the 


74  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK, 

man  a  certain  co-operation  involving  faith :  he  must 
stand  forth  in  the  midst ;  every  one  must  see  his  un- 
happiness;  he  is  to  assume  a  position  which  will 
become  ridiculous  unless  a  miracle  is  wrought.  Then 
he  must  make  an  effort.  In  the  act  of  stretching  forth 
his  hand  the  strength  to  stretch  it  forth  is  given  ;  but 
he  would  not  have  tried  the  experiment  unless  he 
trusted  before  he  discovered  the  power.  Such  is  the 
faith  demanded  of  our  sin-stricken  and  helpless  souls; 
a  faith  which  confesses  its  wretchedness,  believes  in 
the  good  will  of  God  and  the  promises  of  Christ,  and 
receives  the  experience  of  blessing  through  having  acted 
on  the  belief  that  already  the  blessing  is  a  fact  in  the 
Divine  volition. 

Nor  may  we  overlook  the  mysterious  impalpable 
spiritual  power  which  effects  its  purposes  without  a 
touch,  or  even  an  explicit  word  of  healing  import. 
What  is  it  but  the  power  of  Him  Who  spake  and  it 
was  done,  Who  commanded  and  it  stood  fast  ? 

And  all  this  vividness  of  look  and  bearing,  this 
innocent  subtlety  of  device  combined  with  a  boldness 
which  stung  His  foes  to  madness,  all  this  richness  and 
verisimilitude  of  detail,  this  truth  to  the  character  of 
Jesus,  this  spiritual  freedom  from  the  trammels  of  a 
system  petrified  and  grown  rigid,  this  observance  in  a 
secular  act  of  the  requirements  of  the  spiritual  kingdom, 
all  this  wealth  of  internal  evidence  goes  to  attest  one 
of  the  minor  miracles  which  sceptics  declare  to  be 
incredible. 


Markiii.7-i9-J     THE   CHOICE   OF  THE   TWELVE,  75 


THE   CHOICE  OF  THE   TWELVE, 

**  And  Jesus  with  His  disciples  withdrew  to  the  sea :  and  a  great 
multitude  from  Galilee  followed  :  and  from  Judaea,  and  from  Jerusalem, 
and  from  Idumsea,  and  beyond  Jordan,  and  about  Tyre  and  Sidon,  a 
great  multitude,  hearing  what  great  things  He  did,  came  unto  Him. 
And  He  spake  to  His  disciples,  that  a  little  boat  should  wait  on  Him 
because  of  the  crowd,  lest  they  should  throng  Him  :  for  He  had  healed 
many ;  insomuch  that  as  many  as  had  plagues  pressed  upon  Him  that 
they  might  touch  Him.  And  the  unclean  spirits,  whensoever  they  be- 
held Him,  fell  down  before  Him,  and  cried,  saying,  Thou  art  the  Son 
of  God.  And  He  charged  them  much  that  they  should  not  make  Him 
known.  And  He  goeth  up  into  the  mountain,  and  calleth  unto  Him 
whom  He  Himself  would  :  and  they  went  unto  Him.  And  He  appointed 
twelve,  that  they  might  be  with  Him,  and  that  He  might  send  them 
forth  to  preach,  and  to  have  authority  to  cast  out  devils :  and  Simon 
he  sumamed  Peter;  and  James  the  son  of  Zebedee,  and  John  the 
brother  of  James  ;  and  them  He  sumamed  Boanerges,  which  is.  Sons 
of  thunder:  and  Andrew,  and  Philip,  and  Bartholomew,  and  Matthew, 
and  Thomas,  and  James  the  son  of  Alphaeus,  and  Thaddaeus,  and 
Simon  the  Canansean,  and  Judas  Iscariot,  which  also  betrayed  Him." — 
Mark  iii.  7-19  (R.V.). 

We  have  reached  a  crisis  in  the  labours  of  the  Lord, 
when  hatred  which  has  become  deadly  is  preparing  a 
blow.  The  Pharisees  are  aware,  by  a  series  of  experi- 
ences, that  His  method  is  destructive  to  their  system, 
that  He  is  too  fearless  to  make  terms  with  them,  that 
He  will  strip  the  mask  off  their  faces.  Their  rage 
was  presently  intensified  by  an  immense  extension  of 
His  fame.  And  therefore  He  withdrew  from  the  plots 
which  ripen  most  easily  in  cities,  the  hotbeds  of 
intrigue,  to  the  open  coast.  It  is  His  first  retreat 
before  opposition,  and  careful  readers  of  the  Gospels 
must  observe  that  whenever  the  pressure  of  His  enemies 
became  extreme,  He  turned  for  safety  to  the  simple 
fishermen,    among    whom    they    had    no    party,   since 


76  GOSPEL  OF  ST.   MARK, 

they  had  preached  no  gospel  to  the  poor,  and  that 
He  was  frequently  conveyed  by  water  from  point  to 
point,  easily  reached  by  followers,  who  sometimes 
indeed  outran  Him  upon  foot,  but  where  treason  had 
to  begin  its  wiles  afresh.  Hither,  perhaps  camping 
along  the  beach,  came  a  great  multitude  not  only  from 
Galilee  but  also  from  Judaea,  and  even  from  the  capital, 
the  headquarters  of  the  priesthood,  and  by  a  journey 
of  several  days  from  Idumaea,  and  from  Tyre  and 
Sidon,  so  that  afterwards,  even  there.  He  could  not  be 
hid.  Many  came  to  see  what  great  things  He  did, 
but  others  bore  with  them  some  afflicted  friend,  or 
were  themselves  sore  stricken  by  disease.  And  Jesus 
gave  like  a  God,  opening  His  hand  and  satisfying  their 
desires,  ''  for  power  went  out  of  Him,  and  healed  them 
ail."  Not  yet  had  the  unbelief  of  man  restrained  the 
compassion  of  His  heart,  and  forced  Him  to  exhibit 
another  phase  of  the  mind  of  God,  by  refusing  to  give 
that  which  is  holy  to  the  dogs.  As  yet,  therefore.  He 
healeth  all  their  diseases.  Then  arose  an  unbecoming 
and  irreverent  rush  of  as  many  as  had  plagues  to  touch 
Him.  A  more  subtle  danger  mingled  itself  with  this 
peril  from  undue  eagerness.  For  unclean  spirits,  who 
knew  His  mysterious  personality,  observed  that  this 
was  still  a  secret,  and  was  no  part  of  His  teaching, 
since  His  disciples  could  not  bear  it  yet.  Many  months 
afterwards,  flesh  and  blood  had  not  revealed  it  even 
to  Peter.  And  therefore  the  demons  made  malicious 
haste  to  proclaim  Him  the  Son  of  God,  and  Jesus  was 
obliged  to  charge  them  much  that  they  should  not 
make  Him  known.  This  action  of  His  may  teach  His 
followers  to  be  discreet.  Falsehood  indeed  is  always 
evil,  but  at  times  reticence  is  a  duty,  because  certain 
truths  are  a  medicine  too  powerful  for  some  stages  of 


Marlriii.7-I9-]     THE   CHOICE   OF  THE   TWELVE.  77 

spiritual  disease.  The  strong  sun  which  ripens  the 
grain  in  autumn,  would  burn  up  the  tender  germs  of 
spring. 

But  it  was  necessary  to  teach  as  well  as  to  heal. 
And  Jesus  showed  his  ready  practical  ingenuity,  by 
arranging  that  a  little  boat  should  wait  on  Him,  and 
furnish  at  once  a  pulpit  and  a  retreat. 

And  now  Jesus  took  action  distinctly  Messianic. 
The  harvest  of  souls  was  plenteous,  but  the  appointed 
labourers  were  unfaithful,  and  a  new  organisation  was 
to  take  their  place.  The  sacraments  and  the  apostolate 
are  indeed  the  only  two  institutions  bestowed  upon  His 
Church  by  Christ  Himself;  but  the  latter  is  enough  to 
show  that,  so  early  in  His  course,  He  saw  His  way  to 
a  revolution.  He  appointed  twelve  apostles,  in  clear 
allusion  to  the  tribes  of  a  new  Israel,  a  spiritual 
circumcision,  another  peculiar  people.  A  new  Jerusalem 
should  arise,  with  their  names  engraven  upon  its 
twelve  foundation  stones.  But  since  all  great  changes 
arrive,  not  by  manufacture  but  by  growth,  and  in  co- 
operation with  existing  circumstances,  since  nations  and 
constitutions  are  not  made  but  evolved,  so  was  it  also 
with  the  Church  of  Christ.  The  first  distinct  and  formal 
announcement  of  a  new  sheepfold,  entered  by  a  new 
and  living  Way,  only  came  when  evoked  by  the  action 
of  His  enemies  in  casting  out  the  man  who  was  born 
^lind.  By  that  time,  the  apostles  were  almost  ready 
to  take  their  place  in  it.  They  had  learned  much. 
They  had  watched  the  marvellous  career  to  which 
their  testimony  should  be  rendered.  By  exercise  they 
had  learned  the  reality,  and  by  failure  the  condition 
of  the  miraculous  powers  which  they  should  transmit. 
But  long  before,  at  the  period  we  have  now  reached, 
the  apostles  had   been  choser    under  pressure  of  the 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


necessity  to  meet  the  hostility  of  the  Pharisees  with  a 
counter-agency,  and  to  spread  the  knowledge  of  His 
power  and  doctrine  farther  than  One  Teacher,  however 
endowed,  could  reach.  They  were  to  be  workers 
together  with  Him. 

St.  Mark  tells  us  that  He  went  up  into  the  mountain, 
the  well  known  hill  of  the  neighbourhood,  as  St. 
Luke  also  implies,  and  there  called  unto  Him  whom 
He  Himself  would.  The  emphasis  refutes  a  curious 
conjecture,  that  Judas  may  have  been  urged  upon  Him 
with  such  importunity  by  the  rest  that  to  reject  became 
a  worse  evil  than  to  receive  him.*  The  choice  was  all 
His  own,  and  in  their  early  enthusiasm  not  one  whom 
He  summoned  refused  the  call.  Out  of  these  He 
chose  the  Twelve,  elect  of  the  election. 

We  learn  from  St.  Luke  (v.  12)  that  His  choice, 
fraught  with  such  momentous  issues,  was  made  after 
a  whole  night  of  prayer,  and  from  St.  Matthew  that 
He  also  commanded  the  whole  body  of  His  disciples 
to  pray  the  Lord  of  the  Harvest,  not  that  they  them- 
selves should  be  chosen,  but  that  He  would  send  forth 
labourers  into  His  harvest. 

Now  who  were  these  by  whose  agency  the  downward 
course  of  humanity  was  reversed,  and  the  traditions  of 
a  Divine  faith  were  poured  into  a  new  mould  ? 

It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  their  ranks  were  after- 
wards recruited  from  the  purest  Hebrew  blood  and 
ripest  culture  of  the  time,  The  addition  of  Saul  of 
Tarsus  proved  that  knowledge  and  position  were  no 
more  proscribed  than  indispensable.  Yet  is  it  in  the 
last  degree  suggestive,  that  Jesus  drew  His  personal 
followers  from  classes,  not  indeed  oppressed  by  want, 


Lange.  Life  of  Christy  ii.  p.  179, 


Mark  iii.  7-19]     THE   CHOICE   OF  THE    TWELVE.  79 

bu*  lowly,  unwarped  by  the  prejudicies  of  the  time, 
living  in  close  contact  with  nature  and  with  unsophisti- 
cated men,  speaking  and  thinking  the  words  and 
thoughts  of  the  race  and  not  of  its  coteries,  and  face  to 
face  with  the  great  primitive  wants  and  sorrows  over 
which  artificial  refinement  spreads  a  thin,  but  often  a 
baffling  veil. 

With  one  exception  the  Nazarene  called  Galileans  to 
His  ministry;  and  the  Carpenter  was  followed  by  a 
group  of  fishermen,  by  a  despised  publican,  by  a  zealot 
whose  love  of  Israel  had  betrayed  him  into  wild  and 
lawless ,  theories  at  least,  perhaps  into  evil  deeds,  and 
by  several  whose  previous  life  and  subsequent  labours 
are  unknown  to  earthly  fame.  Such  are  the  Judges 
enthroned  over  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel. 

A  mere  comparison  of  the  lists  refutes  the  notion 
that  any  one  Evangelist  has  worked  up  the  materials 
of  another,  so  diverse  are  they,  and  yet  so  easily  recon- 
ciled. Matthew  in  one  is  Levi  in  another.  Thaddaeus, 
Jude,  and  Lebbseus,  are  interchangeable.  The  order 
of  the  Twelve  differs  in  all  the  four  lists,  and  yet  there 
are  such  agreements,  even  in  this  respect,  as  to  prove 
that  all  the  Evangelists  were  writing  about  what  they 
understood.  Divide  the  Twelve  into  three  ranks  of 
four,  and  in  none  of  the  four  catalogues  will  any  name, 
or  its  equivalent,  be  found  to  have  wandered  out  of  its 
subdivision,  out  of  the  first,  second,  or  third  rank,  in 
which  doubtless  that  apostle  habitually  followed  Jesus. 
Within  each  rank  there  is  the  utmost  diversity  of  place, 
except  that  the  foremost  name  in  each  is  never  varied ; 
Petsr,  Philip,  and  the  Lesser  James,  hold  the  first, 
fifth,  and  ninth  place  in  every  catalogue.  And  the 
traitor  is  always  last.  These  are  co'ncidences  too 
slight    for  design  and  too  striking  for  accident,  they 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


are  the  natural  signs  of  truth.  For  they  indicate,  with- 
out obtruding  or  explaining,  some  arrangement  of 
the  ranks,  and  some  leadership  of  an  individual  in 
each. 

Moreover,  the  group  of  the  apostles  presents  a 
wonderfully  lifelike  aspect.  Fear,  ambition,  rivalry, 
perplexity,  silence  when  speech  is  called  for,  and 
speech  when  silence  is  befitting,  vows,  failures,  and  yet 
real  loyalty,  alas  !  we  know  them  all.  The  incidents 
which  are  recorded  of  the  chosen  of  Christ  no  inventor 
of  the  second  century  would  have  dared  to  devise ;  and 
as  we  study  them,  we  feel  the  touch  of  genuine  life ; 
not  of  colossal  statues  such  as  repose  beneath  the 
dome  of  St.  Peter's,  but  of  men,  genuine,  simple  and 
even  somewhat  childlike,  yet  full  of  strong,  fresh,  un- 
sophisticated feeling,  fit  therefore  to  become  a  great 
power,  and  especially  so  in  the  capacity  of  witnesses 
for  an  ennobling  yet  controverted  fact. 

CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE   TWELVE. 

"And  He  appointed  twelve,  that  they  might  be  with  Him,  and 
that  He  might  send  them  forth  to  preach,  and  to  have  authority  to 
cast  out  devils :  and  Simon  He  surnamed  Peter  ;  and  James  the  son 
of  Zebedee,  and  John  the  brother  of  James  ;  and  them  He  surnamed 
Boanerges,  which  is,  Sons  of  thunder  :  and  Andrew,  and  Philip,  and 
Bartholomew,  and  Matthew,  and  Thomas,  and  James  the  son  of 
Alphaeus,  and  Thaddaeus,  and  Simon  the  Cananaean,  and  Judas 
Iscariot,  which  also  betrayed  Him." — Mark  iii.  14-19  (R.V.). 

The  pictures  of  the  Twelve,  then,  are  drawn  from  a  living 
group.  And  when  they  are  examined  in  detail,  this 
appearance  of  vitality  is  strengthened,  by  the  richest 
and  most  vivid  indications  of  individual  character,  such 
indeed  as  in  several  cases  to  throw  light  upon  the 
choice  of  Jesus.     To  invent  such  touches  is  the  last 


Mark iu.  14- 1 9-]    CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  TWELVE.    8i 

attainment  of  dramatic  genius,  and  the  artist  rarely 
succeeds  except  If  y  deliberate  and  palpable  character- 
painting.  The  whole  story  of  Hamlet  and  of  Lear  is 
constructed  with  this  end  in  view,  but  no  one  has  ever 
conjectured  that  the  Gospels  were  psychological  studies. 
If,  then,  we  can  discover  several  well-defined  charac- 
ters, harmoniously  drawn  by  various  writers,  as  natural 
as  the  central  figure  is  supernatural,  and  to  be  recog- 
nised equally  in  the  common  and  the  miraculous  narra- 
tives, this  will  be  an  evidence  of  the  utmost  value. 

We  are  all  familiar  with  the  impetuous  vigour  of 
St.  Peter,  a  quality  which  betrayed  him  into  grave  and 
well-nigh  fatal  errors,  but  when  chastened  by  suffering 
made  him  a  noble  and  formidable  leader  of  the  Twelve. 
We  recognise  it  when  He  says,  "  Thou  shalt  never 
wash  my  feet,"  "  Though  all  men  should  deny  Thee,  yet 
will  I  never  deny  Thee,"  "  Lord,  to  whom  should  we 
go  ?  Thou  hast  the  words  of  everlasting  life,"  *'  Thou 
art  the  Christ,  the  Son  o4  the  living  God,"  and  in  his 
rebuke  of  Jesus  for  self-sacrifice,  and  in  his  rash  blow 
in  the  garden.  Does  this,  the  best  established  mental 
quality  of  any  apostle,  fail  or  grow  faint  in  the  miracu- 
lous stories  which  are  condemned  as  the  accretions  of  a 
later  time  ?  In  such  stories  he  is  related  to  have  cried 
out,  *'  Depart  from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  O  Lord," 
he  would  walk  upon  the  sea  to  Jesus,  he  proposed  to 
shelter  Moses  and  Elijah  from  the  night  air  in  booths 
(a  notion  so  natural  to  a  bewildered  man,  so  exquisite 
in  its  officious  well-meaning  absurdity  as  to  prove  it- 
self, for  who  could  have  invented  it  ?),  he  ventured  into 
the  empty  sepulchre  while  John  stood  awe-stricken  at 
the  portal,  he  plunged  into  the  lake  to  seek  his  risen 
Master  on  the  shore,  and  he  was  presently  the  first  to 
d^aw  the  net  to  land.     Observe  the  restless  curiosity 

6 


8a  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

which  beckoned  to  John  to  ask  who  was  the  traitor, 
and  compare  it  with  his  question,  "  Lord,  and  what  shall 
this  man  do  ?  "  But  the  second  of  these  was  after  the 
resurrection,  and  in  answer  to  a  prophecy.  Every- 
where we  find  a  real  person  and  the  same,  and  the 
vehemence  is  everywhere  that  of  a  warm  heart,  which 
could  fail  signally  but  could  weep  bitterly  as  well, 
which  could  learn  not  to  claim,  though  twice  invited, 
greater  love  than  that  of  others,  but  when  asked 
*'  Lovest  thou  Me  "  at  all,  broke  out  into  the  passionate 
appeal,  "  Lord,  Thou  knowest  all  things,  Thou  knowest 
that  I  love  Thee."  Dull  is  the  ear  of  the  critic  which 
fails  to  recognise  here  the  voice  of  Simon.  Yet  the 
story  implies  the  resurrection. 

The  mind  of  Jesus  was  too  lofty  and  grave  for 
epigram ;  but  He  put  the  wilful  self-reliance  which 
Peter  had  to  subdue  even  to  crucifixion,  into  one  deli- 
cate and  subtle  phrase  :  "  When  thou  wast  young,  thou 
girdedst  thyself,  and  walkedst  whither  thou  wouldest." 
That  self-willed  stride,  with  the  loins  girded,  is  the 
natural  gait  of  Peter,  when  he  was  young. 

St.  James,  the  first  apostolic  martyr,  seems  to  have 
over-topped  for  a  while  his  greater  brother  St.  John, 
before  whom  he  is  usually  named,  and  who  is  once  dis- 
tinguished as  "  the  brother  of  James."  He  shares  with 
him  the  title  of  a  Son  of  Thunder  (Mark  iii.  17).  They 
were  together  in  desiring  to  rival  the  fiery  and  aveng- 
ing miracle  of  Elijah,  and  to  partake  of  the  profound 
baptism  and  bitter  cup  of  Christ.  It  is  an  undesigned 
coincidence  in  character,  that  while  the  latter  of  these 
events  is  recorded  by  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark,  the 
former,  which,  it  will  be  observed  implies  perfect  confi- 
dence in  the  supernatural  pov/er  of  Christ,  is  found  in 
St.  Luke  alone,  who  has   not  mentioned  the   title  it 


Markiii.14-19-]    CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  TWELVE.    83 

justifies  SO  curiously  (Matt.  xx.  20;  Mark  x.  35 ;  Luke 
ix.  54).  It  is  more  remarkable  that  he  whom  Christ 
bade  to  share  his  distinctive  title  with  another,  should 
not  once  be  named  as  having  acted  or  spoken  by  him- 
self. With  a  fire  like  that  of  Peter,  but  no  such  power 
of  initiative  and  of  chieftainship,  how  natural  it  is  that 
his  appointed  task  was  martyrdom.  Is  it  objected  that 
his  brother  also,  the  great  apostle  St.  John,  received  only 
a  share  in  that  divided  title  ?  But  the  family  trait  is 
quite  as  palpable  in  him.  The  deeds  of  John  were 
seldom  wrought  upon  his  own  responsibility,  never  if 
we  except  the  bringing  of  Peter  into  the  palace  of  the 
high  priest.  He  is  a  keen  observer  and  a  deep  thinker. 
But  he  cannot,  like  his  Master,  combine  the  quality  of 
leader  with  those  of  student  and  sage.  In  company  with 
Andrew  he  found  the  Messiah.  We  have  seen  James 
leading  him  for  a  time.  It  was  in  obedience  to  a  sign 
from  Peter  that  He  asked  who  was  the  traitor.  With 
Peter,  when  Jesus  was  arrested,  he  followed  afar  off. 
It  is  very  characteristic  that  he  shrank  from  entering 
the  sepulchre  until  Peter,  coming  up  behind,  went  in 
first,  although  it  was  John  who  thereupon  "saw  and 
believed.'*  * 

With  like  discernment,  he  was  the  first  to  recognise 
Jesus  beside  the  lake,  but  then  it  was  equally  natural 
that  he  should  tell  Peter,  and  follow  in  the  ship, 
dragging  the  net  to  land,  as  that  Peter  should  gird 
himself  and  plunge  into  the  lake.  Peter,  when  Jesus 
drew  him  aside,  turned  and  saw  the  disciple  whom 
Jesus  loved  following,  with  the  same  silent,  gentle,  and 
sociable  affection,  which  had  so  recently  joined  him  with 

*  It  is  also  very  natural  that,  in  telling  the  story,  he  should  remem- 
ber how,  while  hesitating  to  enter,  he  **  stooped  down  **  to  gaze,  n  the 
wild  dawn  of  his  new  hope. 


GOSPEL  OF  ST.   MARK, 


the  saddest  and  tenderest  of  all  companions  underneath 
the  cross.  At  this  point  there  is  a  delicate  and  sugges- 
tive turn  of  phrase.  By  what  incident  would  any  pen 
except  his  own  have  chosen  to  describe  the  beloved 
disciple  as  Peter  then  beheld  him  ?  Assuredly  we 
should  have  written,  The  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved^ 
who  also  followed  Him  to  Calvary,  and  to  whom  Hi 
confided  His  mother.  But  from  St.  John  himself  there 
would  have  been  a  trace  of  boastfulness  in  such  ? 
phrase.  Now  the  author  of  the  Fourth  Gospel, 
choosing  rather  to  speak  of  privilege  than  service, 
wrote  "The  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved,  which  also 
leaned  back  on  His  breast  at  the  supper,  and  said, 
Lord,  who  is  he  that  betrayeth  Thee  ?  " 

St.  John  was  again  with  St.  Peter  at  the  Beautiful 
Gate,  and  although  it  was  not  he  who  healed  the  cripple, 
yet  his  co-operation  is  implied  in  the  words,  "  Peter, 
fastening  his  eyes  on  him,  with  John ^  And  when  the 
Council  would  fain  have  silenced  them,  the  boldness 
which  spoke  in  Peter's  reply  was  "  the  boldness  of 
Peter  and  John." 

Could  any  series  of  events  justify  more  perfectly 
a  title  which  implied  much  zeal,  yet  zeal  that  did  not 
demand  a  specific  unshared  epithet  ?  But  these  events 
are  interwoven  with  the  miraculoijis  narratives. 

Add  to  this  the  keenness  and  deliberation  which  so 
much  of  his  story  exhibits,  which  at  the  beginning 
tendered  no  hasty  homage,  but  followed  Jesus  to 
examine  and  to  learn,  which  saw  the  meaning  of  the 
orderly  arrangment  of  the  graveclothes  in  the  empty 
tomb,  which  was  first  to  recognise  the  Lord  upon  the 
beach,  wliich  before  this  had  felt  something  in  Christ's 
regard  for  the  least  and  weakest,  inconsistent  with 
the   forbidding  of  any  one  to  cast  out  devils,  and  we 


Mark iii.  14-19.]    CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  TWELVE.    85 

have  the  very  qualities  required  to  supplement  those 
of  Peter,  without  being  discordant  or  uncongenial. 
And  therefore  it  is  with  Peter,  even  more  than  with  his 
brother,  that  we  have  seen  John  associated.  In  fact 
Christ,  who  sent  out  His  apostles  by  two  and  two,  joins 
these  in  such  small  matters  as  the  tracking  a  man  with 
a  pitcher  into  the  house  where  He  would  keep  the 
Passover.  And  so,  when  Mary  of  Magdala  would 
announce  the  resurrection,  she  found  the  penitent 
Simon  in  company  with  this  loving  John,  comforted, 
and  ready  to  seek  the  tomb  where  he  met  the  Lord  of 
all  Pardons. 

All  this  is  not  only  coherent,  and  full  of  vital  force, 
but  it  also  strengthens  powerfully  the  evidence  for 
his  authorship  of  the  Gospel,  written  the  last,  looking 
deepest  into  sacred  mysteries,  and  comparatively  un- 
concerned for  the  mere  flow  of  narrative,  but  tender 
with  private  and  loving  discourse,  with  thoughts  of 
the  protecting  Shepherd,  the  sustaining  Vine,  the 
Friend  Who  wept  by  a  grave.  Who  loved  John,  Who 
provided  amid  tortures  for  His  mother.  Who  knew  that 
Peter  loved  Him,  and  bade  him  feed  the  lambs — and 
yet  thunderous  as  becomes  a  Boanerges,  with  indig- 
nation half  suppressed  against  *^  the  Jews  "  (so  called 
as  if"  he  had  renounced  his  murderous  nation),  against 
the  selfish  high-priest  of ''  that  same  year,"  and  against 
the  son  of  perdition,  for  whom  certain  astute  worldlings 
have  surmised  that  his  wrath  was  such  as  they  best 
understand,  personal,  and  perhaps  a  little  spiteful. 
The  temperament  of  John,  revealed  throughout,  was 
that  of  August,  brooding  and  warm  and  hushed  and 
fruitful,  with  low  rumblings  of  tempest  in  the  night. 

It  is  remarkable  that  such  another  family  resemblance 
as  betwee;^  James  and  John  exists  between  Peter  and 


86  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

Andrew,  The  directness  and  self-reliance  of  his 
greater  brother  may  be  discovered  in  the  few  incidents 
recorded  of  Andrew  also.  At  the  beginning,  and  after 
one  interview  with  Jesus,  when  he  finds  his  brother, 
and  becomes  the  first  of  the  Twelve  to  spread  the 
gospel,  he  utters  the  short  unhesitating  announce- 
ment, "  We  have  found  the  Messiah."  When  Philip 
is  uncertain  about  introducing  the  Greeks  who  would 
see  Jesus,  he  consults  Andrew,  and  there  is  no  more 
hesitation,  Andrew  and  Philip  tell  Jesus.  And  in 
just  the  same  way,  when  Philip  argues  that  two 
hundred  pennyworth  of  bread  are  not  enough  for  the 
multitude,  Andrew  intervenes  with  practical  information 
about  the  five  barley  loaves  and  the  two  small  fishes, 
insufficient  although  they  seem.  A  man  prompt  and 
ready,  and  not  blind  to  the  resources  that  exist  because 
they  appear  scanty. 

Twice  we  have  found  Philip  mentioned  in  con- 
junction with  him.  It  was  Philip,  apparently  accosted 
by  the  Greeks  because  of  his  Gentile  name,  who 
could  not  take  upon  himself  the  responsibility  of 
telling  Jesus  of  their  wish.  And  it  was  he,  when 
consulted  about  the  feeding  of  the  five  thousand,  who 
went  off  into  a  calculation  of  the  price  of  the  food 
required — two  hundred  pennyworth,  he  says,  would 
not  suffice.  Is  it  not  highly  consistent  with  this  slow 
deliberation,  that  he  should  have  accosted  Nathanael 
with  a  statement  so  measured  and  explicit :  "  We  have 
found  Him,  of  whom  Moses  in  the  law,  and  the  pro- 
phets did  write,  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  Son  of  Joseph." 
What  a  contrast  to  Andrew's  terse  announcement,  "  We 
have  found  the  Messiah."  And  how  natural  that  Philip 
should  answer  the  objection,  "  Can  any  good  thing 
come  out  of  Nazareth  ?  "  with  the  passionless  reason- 


Mark iii.  14-19]    CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  TWELVE,    87 

able  invitation,  "  Come  and  see."  It  was  in  the  same 
unimaginative  prosaic  way  that  he  said  long  after, 
*'  Lord,  show  us  the  Father,  and  it  sufficeth  us."  To 
this  comparatively  sluggish  temperament,  therefore, 
Jesus  Himself  had  to  address  the  first  demand  He  made 
on  any.  '*  Follow  me,"  He  said,  and  was  obeyed.  It 
would  not  be  easy  to  compress  into  such  brief  and  inci- 
dental notices  a  more  graphic  indication  of  character. 

Of  the  others  we  know  little  except  the  names. 
The  choice  of  Matthew,  the  man  of  business,  is  chiefly 
explained  by  the  nature  of  his  Gospel,  so  explicit, 
orderly,  and  methodical,  and  until  it  approaches  the 
crucifixion,  so  devoid  of  fire. 

But  when  we  come  to  Thomas,  we  are  once  more 
aware  of  a  defined  and  vivid  personality,  somewhat 
perplexed  and  melancholy,  of  little  hope  but  settled 
loyalty. 

All  the  three  sayings  reported  of  him  belong  to  a 
dejected  temperament;  "Let  us  also  go,  that  we  may  die 
with  Him  " — as  if  there  could  be  no  brighter  meaning 
than  death  in  Christ's  proposal  to  interrupt  a  dead  man's 
sleep.  "  Lord,  we  know  not  whither  Thou  goest,  and 
how  can  we  know  the  way?" — these  words  express 
exactly  the  same  despondent  failure  to  apprehend. 
And  so  it  comes  to  pass  that  nothing  short  of  tangible 
experience  will  convince  him  of  the  resurrection.  And 
yet  there  is  a  warm  and  devoted  heart  to  be  recognised 
in  the  proposal  to  share  Christ's  death,  in  the  yearning 
to  know  whither  He  went,  and  even  in  that  agony  of 
unbelief,  which  dwelt  upon  the  cruel  details  of  suffering, 
until  it  gave  way  to  one  glad  cry  of  recognition  and  of 
woiihip;  therefore  his  demand  was  granted,  although 
a  richer  blessing  was  reserved  for  those  who,  not 
having  seen,   believed. 


88  GOSPEL   Of  ST.   MARK, 


THE    APOSTLE    JUDAS, 

**  And  Judas  Iscariot,  which  also  betrayed  Him." — Mark  iii.  19. 

The  evidential  value  of  what  has  been  written  about 
the  apostles  will,  to  some  minds,  seem  to  be  overborne 
by  the  difficulties  which  start  up  at  the  name  of  Judas. 
And  yet  the  fact  that  Jesus  chose  him — that  awful  fact 
which  has  offended  many — is  in  harmony  with  all  that 
we  see  around  us,  with  the  prodigious  powers  bestowed 
upon  Napoleon  and  Voltaire,  bestowed  in  full  know- 
ledge of  the  dark  results,  yet  given  because  the  issues 
of  human  freewill  never  cancel  the  trusts  imposed  on 
human  responsibility.  Therefore  the  issues  of  the 
freewill  of  Judas  did  not  cancel  the  trust  imposed  upon 
his  responsibility ;  and  Jesus  acted  not  on  His  fore- 
knowledge of  the  future,  but  on  the  mighty  possi- 
bilities, for  good  as  for  evil,  which  heaved  in  the  bosom 
of  the  fated  man  as  he  stood  upon  the  mountain 
sward. 

In  the  story  of  Judas,  the  principles  which  rule  the 
world  are  made  visible.  From  Adam  to  this  day  men 
have  been  trusted  who  failed  and  fell,  and  out  of  theii 
very  downfall,  but  not  by  precipitating  it,  the  plans  ol 
God  have  evolved  themselves. 

It  is  not  possible  to  make  such  a  study  of  the  cha- 
racter of  Judas  as  of  some  others  of  the  Twelve.  A 
traitor  is  naturally  taciturn.  No  word  of  his  draws 
our  attention  to  the  fact  that  he  had  gained  possession 
of  the  bag,  even  though  one  who  had  sat  at  the  receipt 
of  custom  might  more  naturally  have  become  the  trea- 
surer. We  do  not  hear  his  voice  above  the  rest,  until 
St.  John  explains  the  source  of  the  general  discontent, 
which  remonstrated  against  the  waste  of  ointment.    He 


Markiii.  19.]  THE  APOSTLE  JUDAi,  Ip 

is  silent  even  at  the  feast,  in  despite  of  the  words  which 
revealed  his  guilty  secret,  until  a  slow  and  tardy  ques- 
tion is  wrung  from  him,  not  "Is  it  I,  Lord?"  but 
"Rabbi,  is  it  I?"  His  influence  is  like  that  of  a  subtle 
poison,  not  discerned  until  its  effects  betray  it. 

But  many  words  of  Jesus  acquire  new  force  and 
energy  when  we  observe  that,  whatever  their  drift 
beside,  they  were  plainly  calculated  to  influence  and 
warn  Iscariot.  Such  are  the  repeated  and  urgent 
warnings  against  covetousness,  from  the  first  parable, 
spoken  so  shortly  after  his  vocation,  which  reckons  the 
deceitfulness  of  riches  and  the  lust  of  other  things 
among  the  tares  that  choke  the  seed,  down  to  the 
declaration  that  they  who  trust  in  riches  shall  hardly 
enter  the  kingdom.  Such  are  the  denunciations  against 
hypocrisy,  spoken  openly,  as  in  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,  or  to  His  own  apart,  as  when  He  warned  them 
of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees  which  is  hypocrisy,  that 
secret  vice  which  was  eating  out  the  soul  of  one  among 
them.  Such  were  the  opportunities  given  to  retreat 
without  utter  dishonour,  as  when  He  said,  "  Do  ye 
also  will  to  go  away  ?  .  .  .  Did  I  not  choose  you  the 
Twelve,  and  one  of  you  is  a  devil  ?  "  (John  vi.  6^^  70). 
And  such  also  were  the  awful  warnings  given  of  the 
solemn  responsibilities  of  special  privileges.  The  exalted 
city  which  is  brought  down  to  hell,  the  salt  which  is 
trodden  under  foot,  the  men  whose  sin  remained  be- 
cause they  can  claim  to  see,  and  still  more  plainly,  the 
first  that  shall  be  last,  and  the  man  for  whom  it  were 
good  that  he  had  not  been  born.  In  many  besides  the 
last  of  these,  Judas  must  have  felt  himself  sternly 
because  faithfully  dealt  with.  And  the  exasperation 
which  always  results  from  rejected  warnings,  the  sense 
of  a  presence  utterly  repugnant  to   his  nature,   may 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 


have  largely  contributed  to  his  final  and  disastrous 
collapse. 

In  the  life  of  Judas  there  was  a  mysterious  imperson- 
ation of  all  the  tendencies  of  godless  Judaism,  and  his 
dreadful  personality  seems  to  express  the  whole  move- 
ment of  the  nation  which  rejected  Christ.  We  see  this 
in  the  powerful  attraction  felt  toward  Messiah  before 
His  aims  were  understood,  in  the  deadly  estrangement 
and  hostility  which  were  kindled  by  the  gentle  and 
self-effacing  ways  of  Jesus,  in  the  treachery  of  Judas 
in  the  garden  and  the  unscrupulous  wiliriess  of  the 
priests  accusing  Christ  before  the  governor,  in  the 
fierce  intensity  of  rage  which  turned  his  hands  against 
himself  and  which  destroyed  the  nation  under  Titus. 
Nay  the  very  sordidness  which  made  a  bargain  for 
thirty  pieces  of  silver  has  ever  since  been  a  part  of  the 
popular  conception  of  the  race.  We  are  apt  to  think 
of  a  gross  love  of  money  as  inconsistent  with  intense 
passion,  but  in  Shylock,  the  compatriot  of  Judas, 
Shakespeare  combines  the  two. 

Contemplating  this  blighted  and  sinister  career,  the 
lesson  is  burnt  in  upon  the  conscience,  that  since  Judas 
by  transgression  fell,  no  place  in  the  Church  of  Christ 
can  render  any  man  secure.  And  since,  falling,  he  was 
openly  exposed,  none  may  flatter  himself  that  the  cause 
of  Christ  is  bound  up  with  his  reputation,  that  the 
mischief  must  needs  be  averted  which  his  downfall 
would  entail,  that  Providence  must  needs  avert  from 
him  the  natural  penalties  of  evil-doing.  Though  one 
was  as  the  signet  upon  the  Lord's  hand,  yet  was  he 
plucked  thence.  There  is  no  security  for  any  soul 
anywhere  except  where  love  and  trust  repose,  upon  the 
bosom  of  Christ. 

Now  if  this  be  true,  and  if  sin  and  scandal  may  con- 


Mark  iii.  20-27.]     CHRIST  AND  BEELZEBUB,  91 

ceivably  penetrate  even  the  inmost  circle  of  the  chosen, 
how  great  an  error  is  it  to  break,  because  of  these  ofi'ences, 
the  unity  of  the  Church,  and  institute  some  new  commu- 
nion, purer  far  than  the  Churches  of  Corinth  and  Galatia, 
which  were  not  abandoned  but  reformed,  and  more 
impenetrable  to  corruption  than  the  little  group  of 
those  who  ate  and  drank  with  Jesus. 

CHRIST  AND  BEELZEBUB. 

*'  And  the  multitude  cometh  together  again,  so  that  they  could  not  so 
n.uch  as  eat  bread.  And  when  his  friends  heard  it,  they  went  out  to 
lay  hold  on  Him  :  for  they  said,  He  is  beside  Himself.  And  the  scribes 
which  came  down  from  Jerusalem  said,  He  hath  Beelzebub,  and,  By  the 
prince  of  the  devils  casteth  He  out  the  devils.  And  He  called  them  unto 
Him,  and  said  unto  them  in  parables,  How  can  Satan  cast  out  Satan  ? 
And  if  a  kingdom  be  divided  against  itself,  that  kingdom  cannot  stand. 
And  if  an  house  be  divided  against  itself,  that  house  will  not  be  able  to 
stand.  And  if  Satan  hath  risen  up  against  himself,  and  is  divided,  he 
cannot  stand,  but  hath  an  end.  But  no  one  can  enter  into  the  house  of 
the  strong  man,  and  spoil  his  goods,  except  he  first  bind  the  strong  man  ; 
and  then  he  will  spoil  his  house." — Mark  iii.  20-27  (R.V.). 

While  Christ  was  upon  the  mountain  v*^ith  His  more 
immediate  followers,  the  excitement  in  the  plain  did  not 
exhaust  itself;  for  even  when  He  entered  into  a  house, 
the  crowds  prevented  Him  and  His  followers  from 
taking  necessary  food.  And  when  His  friends  heard 
of  this,  they  judged  Him  as  men  who  profess  to  have 
learned  the  lesson  of  His  Hfe  still  judge,  too  often,  all 
whose  devotion  carries  them  beyond  the  boundaries  of 
convention  and  of  convenience.  For  there  is  a  curious 
betrayal  of  the  popular  estimate  of  this  world  and  the 
world  to  come,  in  the  honour  paid  to  those  who  cast 
away  life  in  battle,  or  sap  it  slowly  in  pursuit  of  wealth 
or  honours,  and  the  contempt  expressed  for  those  who 
compromise  it  on  behalf  of  souls,  for  which  Christ  died. 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK. 


Whenever  b}'  exertion  in  any  unselfish  cause  health 
is  broken,  or  fortune  impaired,  or  influential  friends 
estranged,  the  follower  of  Christ  is  called  an  enthusiast, 
a  fanatic,  or  even  more  plainly  a  man  of  unsettled  mind. 
He  may  be  comforted  by  remembering  that  Jesus  was 
said  to  be  beside  Himself  when  teaching  and  healing 
left  Him  not  leisure  even  to  eat. 

To  this  incessant  and  exhausting  strain  upon  His 
energies  and  sympathies,  St.  Matthew  applies  the 
prophetic  words,  "  Himself  took  our  infirmities  and 
bare  our  diseases  "  (viii.  if).  And  it  is  worth  while 
to  compare  with  that  passage  and  the  one  before  us, 
Renan's  assertion,  that  He  traversed  Galilee  '*  in  the 
midst  of  a  perpetual  fete,"  and  that  ^'joyous  Galilee 
celebrated  in  fetes  the  approach  of  the  well- beloved." 
(Vie  de  J.y^'p.  197,  202).  The  contrast  gives  a  fine 
illustration  of  the  inaccurate  shallowness  of  the  French- 
man's whole  conception  of  the  sacred  life. 

But  it  is  remarkable  that  while  His  friends  could  not 
yet  believe  His  claims,  and  even  strove  to  lay  hold  on 
Him,  no  worse  suspicion  ever  darkened  the  mind  of 
those  who  knew  Him  best  than  that  His  reason  had 
been  disturbed.  Not  these  called  Him  gluttonous  and 
a  winebibber.  Not  these  blasphemed  His  motives. 
But  the  envoys  of  the  priestly  faction,  partisans  from 
Jerusalem,  were  ready  with  an  atrocious  suggestion. 
He  was  Himself  possessed  with  a  worse  devil,  before 
whom  the  lesser  ones  retired.  By  the  prince  of  the 
devils  He  cast  out  the  devils.  To  this  desperate 
evasion,  St.  Matthew  tells  us,  they  were  driven  by  a 
remarkable  miracle,  the  expulsion  of  a  blind  and  dumb 
spirit,  and  the  perfect  heaUng  of  his  victim.  Now  the 
literature  of  the  world  cannot  produce  invective  more 
terrible  than  Jesus  had  at  His  command  for  these  very 


Markiii.20-27.]     CHRIST  AND  BEELZEBUB.  9J 

scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites.  This  is  what  gives 
majesty  to  His  endurance.  No  personal  insult,  no 
resentment  at  His  own  wrong,  could  ruffle  the  sublime 
composure  which,  upon  occasion,  gave  way  to  a  moral 
indignation  equally  sublime.  Calmly  He  calls  His 
traducers  to  look  Him  in  the  face,  and  appeals  to  their 
own  reason  against  their  blasphemy.  Neither  kingdom 
nor  house  divided  against  itself  can  stand.  And  if 
Satan  be  divided  against  himself  and  his  evil  works, 
undoing  the  miseries  and  opening  the  eyes  of  men,  his 
kingdom  has  an  end.  All  the  experience  of  the  world 
since  the  beginning  was  proof  enough  that  such  a 
suicide  of  evil  was  beyond  hope.  The  best  refutation 
of  the  notion  that  Satan  had  risen  up  against  himself 
and  was  divided  was  its  clear  expression.  But  what 
was  the  alternative?  If  Satan  were  not  committing 
suicide,  he  was  overpowered.  There  is  indeed  a  fitful 
temporary  reformation,  followed  by  a  deeper  fall,  which 
St.  Matthew  tells  us  that  Christ  compared  to  the 
cleansing  of  a  house  from  whence  the  evil  tenant  has 
capriciously  wandered  forth,  confident  that  it  is  still  his 
own,  and  prepared  to  return  to  it  with  seven  other  and 
worse  fiends.  A  little  observation  would  detect  such 
illusory  improvement.  But  the  case  before  them  was 
that  of  an  external  summons  reluctantly  obeyed.  It 
required  the  interference  of  a  stronger  power,  which 
could  only  be  the  power  of  God.  None  could  enter 
into  the  strong  man's  house,  and  spoil  his  goods,  unless 
the  strong  man  were  first  bound,  "and  then  he  will 
spoil  his  house."  No  more  distinct  assertion  of  the 
personality  of  evil  spirits  than  this  could  be  devised. 
Jesus  and  the  Pharisees  are  not  at  all  at  issue  upon  this 
point.  He  does  not  scout  as  a  baseless  superstition 
their  belief  that  evil  spirits  are  at  work  in  the  worM. 


94  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK, 

But  He  declares  that  His  own  work  is  the  reversal  of 
theirs.  He  is  spoiling  the  strong  man,  whose  terrible 
ascendancy  over  the  possessed  resembles  the  dominion 
of  a  man  in  his  own  house,  among  chattels  without  a 
will. 

That  dominion  Christ  declares  that  only  a  stronger 
can  overcome,  and  His  argument  assumes  that  the 
stronger  must  needs  be  the  finger  of  God,  the  power  of 
God,  come  unto  them.  The  supernatural  exists  only 
above  us  and  below. 

Ages  have  passed  away  since  then.  Innumerable 
schemes  have  been  devised  for  the  expulsion  of  the 
evils  under  which  the  world  is  groaning,  and  if  they  are 
evils  of  merely  human  origin,  human  power  should 
suffice  for  their  removal.  The  march  of  civilisation 
is  sometimes  appealed  to.  But  what  blessings  has 
civilisation  without  Christ  ever  borne  to  savage  men  ? 
The  answer  is  painful:  rum,  gunpowder,  slavery, 
massacre,  small-pox,  pulmonary  consumption,  and  the 
extinction  of  their  races,  these  are  all  it  has  been 
able  to  bestow.  Education  is  sometimes  spoken  of,  as 
if  it  would  gradually  heal  our  passions  and  expel  vice 
and  misery  from  the  world,  as  if  the  worst  crimes  and 
most  flagrant  vices  of  our  time  were  peculiar  to  the 
ignorant  and  the  untaught,  as  if  no  forger  had  ever 
learned  to  write.  And  sometimes  great  things  are 
promised  from  the  advance  of  science,  as  if  all  the 
works  of  dynamite  and  nitro-glycerine,  were,  like  those 
of  the  Creator,  very  good. 

No  man  can  be  deceived  by  such  flattering  hopes, 
who  rightly  considers  the  volcanic  energies,  the  frantic 
rage,  the  unreasoning  all-sacrificing  recklessness  of 
human  passions  and  desires.  Surely  they  are  set  on 
fire  of  hell,  and  only  heaven  can  quench  the  conflagra- 


Mark  iii.  28,  29.]  "  ETERNAL  SIN:'  95 

tion.  Jesus  has  undertaken  to  do  this.  His  religion 
has  t  een  a  spell  of  power  among  the  degraded  and  the 
lost ;  and  when  we  come  to  consider  mankind  in  bulk, 
it  is  plain  enough  that  no  other  power  has  had  a  really 
reclaiming,  elevating  effect  upon  tribes  and  races.  In 
our  own  land,  what  great  or  lasting  work  of  reformation, 
or  even  of  temporal  benevolence,  has  ever  gone  forward 
without  the  blessing  of  religion  to  sustain  it  ?  Nowhere 
is  Satan  cast  out  but  by  the  Stronger  than  he,  binding 
him,  overmastering  the  evil  principle  which  tramples 
human  nature  down,  as  the  very  first  step  towards 
spoiling  his  goods.  The  spiritual  victory  must  precede 
the  removal  of  misery,  convulsion  and  disease.  There 
is  no  golden  age  for  the  world,  except  the  reign  of 
Christ. 

••ETERNAL  SIN." 

"  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  All  their  sins  shall  be  forgiven  unto  the  sons 
of  men,  and  their  blasphemies  wherewith  soever  they  shall  blaspheme  : 
but  whosoever  shall  blaspheme  against  the  Holy  Spirit  hath  never  for- 
giveness, but  is  guilty  of  an  eternal  sin." — Mark  iii.  28,  29  (R.V.). 

Having  first  shown  that  His  works  cannot  be  ascribed 
to  Satan,  Jesus  proceeds  to  utter  the  most  terrible  of 
warnings,  because  they  said,  He  hath  an  unclean  spirit. 

"All  their  sins  shall  be  forgiven  unto  the  sons  of 
men,  and  their  blasphemies  wherewith  soever  they  shall 
blaspheme,  but  whosoever  shall  blaspheme  against  the 
Holy  Spirit  hath  never  forgiveness,  but  is  guilty  of  an 
eternal  sin." 

What  is  the  nature  of  this  terrible  offence?  It  is 
plain  that  their  slanderous  attack  lay  in  the  direction  of 
it,  since  they  needed  warning ;  and  probable  that  they 
had  not  yet  fallen  into  the  abyss,  because  they  could  still 
be  v^arned  against  it.     At  least,  if  the  guilt  of  some  had 


GOSPEL  OF  ST,  MARK, 


reached  that  dept^,  there  must  have  been  others  in- 
volved in  their  offence  who  were  still  within  reach  of 
Christ's  solemn  admonition.  It  would  seem  therefore 
that  in  saying,  ''He  casteth  out  devils  by  Beelzebub 
•  .  •  He  hath  an  unclean  spirit,"  they  approached  the 
confines  and  doubtful  boundaries  between  that  blas- 
phemy against  the  Son  of  man  which  shall  be  forgiven, 
and  the  blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Spirit  which  hath 
never  forgiveness. 

It  is  evident  also  that  any  crime  declared  by  Scrip- 
ture elsewhere  to  be  incurable,  must  be  identical  with 
this,  however  different  its  guise,  since  Jesus  plainly  and 
indisputably  announces  that  all  other  sins  but  this 
shall  be  forgiven. 

Now  there  are  several  other  passages  of  the  kind. 
St.  John  bade  his  disciples  to  pray,  when  any  saw  a 
brother  sinning  a  sin  not  unto  death,  "and  God  will 
give  him  life  for  them  that  sin  not  unto  death.  There 
is  a  sin  unto  death :  not  concerning  this  do  I  say  that 
he  should  make  request "  (i  John  v.  i6).  It  is  idle  to 
suppose  that,  in  the  case  of  this  sin  unto  death,  the 
Apostle  only  meant  to  leave  his  disciples  free  to  pray 
or  not  to  pray.  If  death  were  not  certain,  it  would 
be  their  duty,  in  common  charity,  to  pray.  But  the 
sin  is  so  vaguely  and  even  mysteriously  referred  to, 
that  we  learn  little  more  from  that  passage  than  that  it 
was  an  overt  public  act,  of  which  other  men  could  so 
distinctly  judge  the  flagrancy  that  from  it  they  should 
withhold  their  prayers.  It  has  nothing  in  common 
with  those  unhappy  wanderings  of  thought  or  affection 
which  morbid  introspection  broods  upon,  until  it  pleads 
guilty  to  the  unpardonable  sin,  for  lapses  of  which  no 
other  could  take  cognizance.  And  in  Christ's  words, 
the  very  epithet,  blasphemy,  involves  the  same  public, 


Mark iii.  28,  29.]  ''ETERNAL  SIN.''  ^ 

open  revolt  against  good.*  And  let  it  be  remembered 
that  every  other  sin  shall  be  forgiven. 

There  are  also  two  solemn  passages  in  the  Epistle  to 
the  Hebrews  (vi.  4-6;  x.  26-31).  The  first  of  these 
declares  that  it  is  impossible  for  men  who  once  ex- 
perienced all  the  enlightening  and  sweet  influences  of 
God,  "  and  then  fell  away,"  to  be  renewed  again 
unto  repentance.  But  falling  upon  the  road  is  very 
different  from  thus  falling  away,  or  how  could  Peter 
have  been  recovered  ?  Their  fall  is  total  apostasy, 
*'  they  crucify  to  themselves  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and 
put  Him  to  an  open  shame."  They  are  not  fruitful 
land  in  which  tares  are  mingled  ;  they  bear  only  thorns 
and  thistles,  and  are  utterly  rejected.  And  so  in  the 
tenth  chapter,  they  who  sin  wilfully  are  men  who 
tread  under  foot  the  Son  of  God,  and  count  the  blood 
of  the  covenant  an  unholy  thing,  and  do  despite 
(insult)  unto  the  Spirit  of  grace. 

Again  we  read  that  in  the  last  time  there  will  arise 
an  enemy  of  God  so  unparalleled  that  his  movement 
will  outstrip  all  others,  and  be  '*  the  falling  2^N2cy!^  and 
he  himself  will  be  '*  the  man  of  sin  "  and  "  the  son 
of  perdition,"  which  latter  title  he  only  shares  with  Is- 
cariot.  Now  the  essence  of  his  portentous  guilt  is  that 
"  he  opposeth  and  exalteth  himself  against  all  that  is 
called  God  or  that  is  worshipped " :  it  is  a  monstrous 
egotism,  "setting  himself  forth  as  God,"  and  such  a 
hatred  of  restraint  as  makes  him  "the  lawless  one" 
(2  Thess.  ii.  3-10). 


•  "  Theology  would  have  been  spared  much  trouble  concerning  this 
passage,  and  anxious  timid  souls  unspeakable  anguish,  if  men  had 
adhered  strictly  to  Christ's  own  expression.  For  it  is  not  a  sin  against 
the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  here  spoken  of,  but  blasphejny  against  the 
Holy  Ghost"— Lange  "  Life  of  Christy"  vol.  ii.  p.  269. 

7 


GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK. 


So  far  as  these  passages  are  at  all  definite  in  their 

descriptions,  they  are  entirely  harmonious.     They  de- 
scribe no  sin  of  the  flesh,  of  impulse,  frailty  or  passion, 
nor  yet  a  spiritual  lapse  of  an  unguarded  hour,  of  rash    . 
speculation,  of  erring  or  misled  opinion.     They  speak  % 
not  of  sincere  failure  to  accept  Christ's  doctrine  or  to  \ 
recognise  His  commission,  even  though  it  breathe  out 
threats  and  slaughters.     They  do  not  even  apply  to  the 
dreadful  sin  of  denying  Christ  in  terror,  though  one 
should  curse  and  swear,  saying,  I  know  not  the  man. 
They  speak  of  a  deliberate  and  conscious  rejection  of 
good  and  choice  of  evil,  of  the  wilful  aversion  of  the 
soul   from   sacred    influences,    the   public   denial   and 
trampling  under  foot  of  Christ,  the  opposing  of  all  that 
is  called  God. 

And  a  comparison  of  these  passages  enables  us  to 
understand  why  this  sin  never  can  be  pardoned.  It  is 
because  good  itself  has  become  the  food  and  fuel  of 
its  wickedness,  stirring  up  its  opposition,  calling  out 
its  rage,  that  the  apostate  cannot  be  renewed  again 
unto  repentance.  The  sin  is  rather  indomitable  than  - 
unpardonable :  it  has  become  part  of  the  sinner's 
personality ;  it  is  incurable,  an  eternal  sin. 

Here  is  nothing  to  alarm  any  mourner  whose  con- 
trition  proves   that   it   has  actually  been   possible   to 
enew  him  unto  repentance.     No  penitent  has  ever  yet 
been  rejected  for  this  guilt,  for  no  penitent  has  evei 
been  thus  guilty. 

And  this  being  so,  here  is  the  strongest  possible 
encouragement  for  all  who  desire  mercy.  Every  other 
sin,  every  other  blasphemy  shall  be  forgiven.  Heaven 
does  not  reject  the  vilest  whom  the  world  hisses  at, 
the  most  desperate  and  bloodstained  whose  life  the 
world  exacts  in  vengeance  for  his  outrages.     None  is 


Markiii.  3I-35-]      ^^^E  FRIENDS   Ot  JESUS.  99 

lost  but  the  hard  and  impenitent  heart  which  treasures 
up  for  itself  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath. 


THE    FRIENDS    OF  JESUS, 

"And  there  come  His  mother  and  His  brethren  ;  and,  standing  with- 
out, they  sent  unto  Him,  calling  Him.  And  a  multitude  was  sitting 
about  Him  ;  and  they  say  unto  Him,  Behold,  Thy  motuer  and  Thy 
brethren  without  seek  for  Thee.  And  He  answereth  them,  and  saith, 
Who  is  My  mother  and  My  brethren  ?  And  looking  round  on  them 
which  sat  round  about  Him  He  saith.  Behold  My  mother  and  My 
brethren  !  For  whosoever  shall  do  the  will  of  God,  the  same  is  My 
brother,  and  sister,  and  mother." — Mark  iii.  31-35  (R.  V.). 

We  have  lately  read  that  the  relatives  of  Jesus,  hearing 
of  His  self-sacrificing  devotion,  sought  to  lay  hold  on 
Him,  because  they  said.  He  is  beside  Himself.  Their 
concern  would  not  be  lightened  upon  hearing  of  His 
rupture  with  the  chiefs  of  their  religion  and  their  nation. 
And  so  it  was,  that  while  a  multitude  hung  upon  His 
hps,  some  unsympathizing  critic,  or  perhaps  some  hostile 
scribe,  interrupted  Him  with  their  message.  They 
desired  to  speak  with  Him,  possibly  with  rude  inten- 
tions, while  in  any  case,  to  grant  their  wish  might 
easily  have  led  to  a  painful  altercation,  offending  weak 
disciples,  and  furnishing  a  scandal  to  His  eager  foes. 

Their  interference  must  have  caused  the  Lord  a 
bitter  pang.  It  was  sad  that  they  were  not  among  His 
hearers,  but  worse  that  they  should  seek  to  mar  His 
work.  To  Jesus,  endowed  with  every  innocent  human 
instinct,  worn  with  labour  and  aware  of  gathering 
perils,  they  were  an  offence  of  the  same  kind  as 
Peter  made  himself  when  he  became  the  mouthpiece  of 
the  tempter.  For  their  own  sakes,  whose  faith  He  was 
yet  to  win,  it  was  needful  to  be  very  firm.  Moreover, 
He  was  soon  to  make  it  a  law  of  the  kingdom  that  men 


lOO  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MA  "HC. 

should  be  ready  for  His  sake  to  leave  brethren,  or 
sisters,  or  mother,  and  in  so  doing  should  receive  back 
all  these  a  hundredfold  in  the  present  time  (x.  29,  30). 
To  this  law  it  was  now  His  own  duty  to  conform. 
Yet  it  was  impossible  for  Jesus  to  be  harsh  and  stern 
to  a  group  of  relatives  with  His  mother  in  the  midst  of 
them ;  and  it  would  be  a  hard  problem  for  the  finest 
dramatic  genius  to  reconcile  the  conflicting  claims  of 
the  emerge/icy,  fidelity  to  God  and  the  cause,  a  striking 
rebuke  to  the  officious  interference  of  His  kinsfolk,  and 
a  full  and  affectionate  recognition  of  the  relationship 
which  could  not  make  Him  swerve.  How  shall  He 
^' leave"  His  mother  and  his  brethren,  and  yet  not 
deny  His  heart?  How  shall  He  be  strong  without 
being  harsh  ? 

Jesus  reconciles  all  the  conditions  of  the  problem, 
as  pointing  to  His  attentive  hearers.  He  pronounces 
these  to  be  His  true  relatives,  but  yet  finds  no  warmer 
term  to  express  what  He  feels  for  them  than  the  dear 
names  of  mother,  sisters,  brethren. 

Observers  whose  souls  were  not  warmed  as  He 
spoke,  may  have  supposed  that  it  was  cold  indifference 
to  the  calls  of  nature  which  allowed  His  mother  and 
brethren  to  stand  without.  In  truth,  it  was  not  that 
He  denied  the  claims  of  the  flesh,  but  that  He  was 
sensitive  to  other,  subtler,  profounder  claims  of  the 
spirit  and  spiritual  kinship.  He  would  not  carelessly 
wound  a  mother's  or  a  brother's  heart,  but  the  life 
Divine  had  also  its  fellowships  and  its  affinities,  and 
still  less  could  He  throw  these  aside.  No  cold  sense  of 
duty  detains  Him  with  His  congregation  while  affection 
seeks  Him  in  the  vestibule ;  no,  it  is  a  burning  love, 
the  love  of  a  brother  or  even  of  a  son,  which  binds 
Him  to  His  people. 


M«rkni.3l-35-]      THE  FRIENDS  OF  JESUS,  loi 

Happy  are  they  who  are  in  such  a  case.  And  Jesus 
gives  us  a  ready  means  of  knowing  whether  we  are 
among  those  whom  He  so  wonderfully  condescends  to 
love.  *'  Whosoever  shall  do  the  will  of  My  Father 
which  is  in  heaven."  FeeHngs  may  ebb,  and  self- 
confidence  may  be  shaken,  but  obedience  depends  not 
upon  excitement,  and  may  be  rendered  by  a  breaking 
heart. 

It  is  important  to  observe  that  this  saying  declares 
that  obedience  does  not  earn  kinship ;  but  only  proves 
it,  as  the  fruit  proves  the  tree.  Kinship  must  go 
before  acceptable  service ;  none  can  do  the  will  of  the 
Father  who  is  not  already  the  kinsman  of  Jesus,  for 
He  says.  Whosoever  shall  {hereafter)  do  the  will  of  My 
Father,  the  same  is  (already)  My  brother  and  sister  and 
mother.  There  are  men  who  would  fain  reverse  the 
process,  and  do  God's  will  in  order  to  merit  the 
brotherhood  of  Jesus.  They  would  drill  themselves 
and  win  battles  for  Him,  in  order  to  be  enrolled  among 
His  soldiers.  They  would  accept  the  gospel  invitation 
as  soon  as  they  refute  the  gospel  warnings  that  without 
Him  they  can  do  nothing,  and  that  they  need  the 
creation  of  a  new  heart  and  the  renewal  of  a  right  spirit 
within  them.  But  when  homage  was  offered  to  Jesus  as 
a  Divine  teacher  and  no  more,  He  rejoined,  Teaching  is 
not  what  is  required  :  holiness  does  not  result  from  mere 
enlightenment :  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  except 
a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of 
God.  Because  the  new  birth  is  the  condition  of  all 
spiritual  power  and  energy,  it  follows  that  if  any  man 
shall  henceforth  do  God's  will,  he  must  already  be  of 
the  family  of  Christ. 

Men  may  avoid  evil  through  self-respect,  from  early 
training  and  restraints  of  conscience,  from   temporal 


I02  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

prudence  or  dread  of  the  future.  And  this  is  virtuous 
only  as  the  paying  of  a  fire-insurance  is  so.  But 
secondary  motives  will  never  lift  any  man  so  high  as 
to  satisfy  this  sublime  standard,  the  doing  of  the  will 
of  the  Father.  That  can  only  be  attained,  like  all  true 
and  glorious  service  in  every  cause,  by  the  heart,  by 
enthusiasm,  by  love.  And  Jesus  was  bound  to  all  who 
loved  His  Father  by  as  strong  a  cord  as  united  His 
perfect  heart  with  brother  and  sister  and  mother. 

But  as  there  is  no  true  obedience  without  relationship, 
so  is  there  no  true  relationship  unfollowed  by  obe- 
dience. Christ  was  not  content  to  say,  Whoso  doeth 
God's  will  is  My  kinsman :  He  asked,  Who  is  My 
kinsman  ?  and  gave  this  as  an  exhaustive  reply.  He 
has  none  other.  Every  sheep  in  His  fold  hears  His 
voice  and  follows  Him.  We  may  feel  keen  emotions  as 
we  listen  to  passionate  declamations,  or  kneel  in  an 
excited  prayer-meeting,  or  bear  our  part  in  an  imposing 
ritual ;  we  may  be  moved  to  tears  by  thinking  of  the 
dupes  of  whatever  heterodoxy  we  most  condemn ; 
tender  and  soft  emotions  may  be  stirred  in  our  bosom 
by  the  story  of  the  perfect  life  and  Divine  death  of 
Jesus ;  and  yet  we  may  be  as  far  from  a  renewed 
heart  as  was  that  ancient  tyrant  from  genuine  com- 
passion, who  wept  over  the  brevity  of  the  lives  of  the 
soldiers  whom  he  sent  into  a  wanton  war. 

Mere  feeling  is  not  life.  It  moves  truly ;  but  only 
as  a  balloon  moves,  rising  by  virtue  of  its  emptiness, 
driven  about  by  every  blast  that  veers,  and  sinking 
when  its  inflation  is  at  an  end.  But  mark  the  living 
creature  poised  on  widespread  wings ;  it  has  a  will,  an 
intention,  and  an  initiative,  and  as  long  as  its  life  is 
healthy  and  unenslaved,  it  moves  at  its  own  good 
pleasure.     How  shall   I   know  whether   <m-  not  I  am 


Mark  iii.  3I-3S-]      THE  FRIENDS  OF  JESUS.  lo^ 

a  tine  kinsman  of  the  Lord  ?  By  seeing  whether 
I  advance,  whether  I  work,  whether  1  have  real  and 
practical  zeal  and  love,  or  whether  I  have  grown  cold, 
and  make  more  allowance  for  the  flesh  than  I  used  to 
do,  and  expect  less  from  the  spirit.  Obedience  does 
not  produce  grace.  But  it  proves  it,  for  we  can  no 
more  bear  fruit  except  we  abide  in  Christ,  than  the 
branch  that  does  not  abide  in  the  vine. 

Lastly,  we  observe  the  individual  love,  the  personal 
affection  of  Christ  for  each  of  His  people.  There  is 
a  love  for  masses  of  men  and  philanthropic  causes, 
which  does  not  much  observe  the  men  who  compose 
the  masses,  and  upon  whom  the  causes  depend.  Thus, 
one  may  love  his  country,  and  rejoice  when  her 
flag  advances,  without  much  care  for  any  soldier  who 
has  been  shot  down,  or  has  won  promotion.  And  so 
we  think  of  Africa  or  India,  without  really  feeling 
much  about  the  individual  Egyptian  or  Hindoo.  Who 
can  discriminate  and  feel  for  each  one  of  the  mul- 
titudes included  in  such  a  word  as  Want,  or  Sickness, 
or  Heathenism  ?  And  judging  by  our  own  frailty,  we 
are  led  to  think  that  Christ's  love  can  mean  but  little 
beyond  this.  As  a  statesman  who  loves  the  nation 
may  be  said,  in  some  vague  way,  to  love  and  care  for 
me,  so  people  think  of  Christ  as  loving  and  pitying 
us  because  we  are  items  in  the  race  He  loves.  But 
He  has  eyes  and  a  heart,  not  only  for  all,  but  for 
each  one.  Looking  down  the  shadowy  vista  of  the 
generations,  every  sigh,  every  broken  heart,  every 
blasphemy,  is  a  separate  pang  to  His  all-embracing 
heart.  "  Before  that  Philip  called  thee,  when  thou 
wast  under  the  fig-tree,  I  saw  thee"  lonely,  unconscious, 
undistinguished  drop  in  the  tide  of  life,  one  leaf  among 
the  myriads  which  rustle  and  fall  in  the  vast  forest  of 


I04  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

existence.  St.  Paul  speaks  truly  of  Christ  "  Who  loved 
me,  and  gave  Himself  for  me."  He  shall  bring  every 
secret  sin  to  judgment,  and  shall  we  so  far  wrong  Him 
as  to  think  His  justice  more  searching,  more  penetra- 
ting, more  individualizing  than  His  love,  His  memory 
than  His  heart?  It  is  not  so.  The  love  He  offers 
adapts  itself  to  every  age  and  sex :  it  distinguishes 
brother  from  sister,  and  sister  again  from  mother.  It 
is  mindful  of  *'  the  least  of  these  My  brethren."  Bu^ 
it  names  no  Father  except  One, 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE  PARABLES. 

^ioA  again  He  began  to  teach  by  the  sea  lidt.  And  there  Is 
gathered  unto  Him  a  very  great  multitude,  so  that  He  entered  into  a 
boat,  and  sat  in  the  sea ;  and  all  the  multitude  were  by  the  sea  on  the 
land.  And  He  taught  them  many  things  in  p.-uibles,  and  said  unto 
them  in  His  teaching.  .  .  . 

"  And  when  He  was  alone,  they  that  were  about  Him  with  the 
twelve  asked  of  Him  the  parables.  And  He  said  unto  them,  Unto  you 
is  given  the  mystery  of  the  kingdom  of  God  :  but  unto  them  that  are 
without,  all  things  are  done  in  parables  :  that  seeing  they  may  see,  and 
not  perceive ;  and  heating  they  may  hear,  and  not  understand  ;  lest 
haply  they  should  turn  again,  and  it  should  be  forgiven  them.  And 
He  saith  unto  them,  Know  ye  not  this  parable  ?  and  how  shall  ye  know 
all  the  parables  ?  " — Mark  iv.  i,  2,  ia-13  (R.V.). 

AS  opposition  deepened,  and  to  a  vulgar  ambition, 
the  temptation  to  retain  disciples  by  all  means 
would  have  become  greater,  Jesus  began  to  teach  in 
parables.  We  know  that  He  had  not  hitherto  done  so, 
both  by  the  surprise  of  the  Twelve,  and  by  the  necessity 
which  He  found,  of  giving  them  a  clue  to  the  meaning 
of  such  teachings,  and  so  to  ^*  all  the  parables."  His 
own  ought  to  have  understood.  But  He  was  merciful 
to  the  weakness  which  confessed  its  failure  and  asked 
for  instruction. 

And  yet  He  foresaw  that  they  which  were  without 
would  discern  m  spiritual  meaning  in  such  discourse. 
It  was  to  have,  at  the  same  time,  a  revealing  and  a 


lo6  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


baffling  effect,  and  therefore  it  was  peculiarly  suitable 
for  the  purposes  of  a  Teacher  watched  by  vindictive 
foes.  Thus,  when  cross-examined  about  His  author- 
ity by  men  who  themselves  professed  to  know  not 
w^hence  John's  baptism  was,  He  could  refuse  to  be 
entrapped,  and  yet  tell  of  One  Who  sent  His  own 
Son,  His  Beloved,  to  receive  the  fruit  of  the  vine- 
yard. 

This  diverse  effect  is  derived  from  the  very  nature  of 
the  parables  of  Jesus.  They  are  not,  like  some  in  the 
Old  Testament,  mere  fables,  in  which  things  occur  that 
never  happen  in  real  life.  Jotham's  trees  seeking  a 
king,  are  as  incredible  as  ^sop's  fox  leaping  for  grapes. 
But  Jesus  never  uttered  a  parable  which  was  not  true 
to  nature,  the  kind  of  thing  which  one  expects  to 
happen.  We  cannot  say  that  a  rich  man  in  hell  actually 
spoke  to  Abraham  in  heaven.  But  if  he  could  do  so,  of 
which  we  are  not  competent  to  judge,  we  can  well  be- 
lieve that  he  would  have  spoken  just  what  we  read,  and 
that  his  pathetic  cry,  "  Father  Abraham/'  would  have 
been  as  gently  answered,  "  Son,  remember."  There  is 
no  ferocity  in  the  skies ;  neither  has  the  lost  soul 
become  a  fiend.  Everything  commends  itself  to  our 
judgment.  And  therefore  the  story  not  only  illustrates, 
but  appeals,  enforces,  almost  proves. 

God  in  nature  does  not  arrange  that  all  seeds  should 
grow  :  men  have  patience  while  the  germ  slowly  fructi- 
fies, they  know  not  how ;  in  all  things  but  religion  such 
sacrifices  are  made,  that  the  merchant  sells  all  to  buy 
one  goodly  pearl ;  an  earthly  father  kisses  his  repentant 
prodigal ;  and  even  a  Samaritan  can  be  neighbour  to  a 
Jew  in  his  extremity.  So  the  world  is  constructed  : 
such  is  even  the  fallen  human  heart.  Is  it  not  reason- 
able to  believe  that  the  same  principles  will   extend 


Markiv,  1,2;  10-13]        THE  PARABLES,  \o^ 

farther ;  that  as  God  governs  the  world  of  matter  so  He 
may  govern  the  world  of  spirits,  and  that  human  help- 
fulness and  clemency  will  not  outrun  the  graces  of  the 
Giver  of  all  good  ? 

This  is  the  famous  argument  from  analogy,  applied 
long  before  the  time  of  Butler,  to  purposes  farther- 
reaching  than  his.  But  there  is  this  remarkable 
difference,  that  the  analogy  is  never  pressed,  men  are 
left  to  discover  it  for  themselves,  or  at  least,  to  ask  for 
an  explanation,  because  they  are  conscious  of  some- 
thing beyond  the  tale,  something  spiritual,  something 
which  they  fain  would  understand. 

Now  this  difference  is  not  a  mannerism ;  it  is  intended. 
Butler  pressed  home  his  analogies  because  he  was 
striving  to  silence  gainsayers.  His  Lord  and  ours  left 
men  to  discern  or  to  be  blind,  because  they  had  already 
opportunity  to  become  His  disciples  if  they  would.  The 
faithful  among  them  ought  to  be  conscious,  or  at  least 
they  should  now  become  conscious,  of  the  God  of  grace 
in  the  God  of  nature.  To  them  the  world  should  be 
eloquent  of  the  Father's  mind.  They  should  indeed 
find  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
sermons  in  stones.  He  spoke  to  the  sensitive  mind, 
which-  would  understand  Him,  as  a  wife  reads  her 
husband's  secret  joys  and  sorrows  by  signs  no  stranger 
can  understand.  Even  if  she  fails  to  comprehend,  she 
knows  there  is  something  to  ask  about.  And  thus,  when 
they  were  alone,  the  Twelve  asked  Him  of  the  parables. 
When  they  were  instructed,  they  gained  not  only  the 
moral  lesson,  and  the  sweet  pastoral  narrative,  the  idyllic 
picture  which  conveyed  it,  but  also  the  assurance  im- 
parted by  recognizing  the  same  mind  of  God  which  is 
revealec/.  in  His  world,  or  justified  by  the  best  impulses 
of  humanity.      Therefore,    no   parable    is  sensational. 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


It  cannot  root  itself  in  the  exceptional,  the  abnormal 
events  on  which  men  do  not  reckon,  which  come  upon 
us  with  a  shock.  For  we  do  not  argue  from  these  to 
daily  life. 

But  while  this  mode  of  teaching  was  profitable  to 
His  disciples,  and  protected  Him  against  His  foes,  it 
had  formidable  consequences  for  the  frivolous  empty 
followers  after  a  sign.  Because  they  were  such  they 
could  only  find  frivolity  and  lightness  in  these  stories ; 
the  deeper  meaning  lay  farther  below  the  surface  than 
such  eyes  could  pierce.  Thus  the  fight  they  had  abused 
was  taken  from  them.  And  Jesus  explained  to  His 
disciples  that,  in  acting  thus.  He  pursued  the  fixed  rule 
of  God.  The  worst  penalty  of  vice  is  that  it  loses  the 
knowledge  of  virtue,  and  of  levity  that  it  cannot  ap- 
preciate seriousness.  He  taught  in  parables,  as  Isaiah 
prophesied,  "  that  seeing  they  may  see,  and  not  per- 
ceive, and  hearing  they  may  hear,  and  not  understand; 
lest  haply  they  should  turn  again  and  it  should  be 
forgiven  them."  These  last  words  prove  how  completely 
penal,  how  free  from  all  caprice,  was  this  terrible 
decision  of  our  gentle  Lord,  that  precautions  must  be 
taken  against  evasion  of  the  consequences  of  crime. 
But  it  is  a  warning  by  no  means  unique.  He  said,  "  The 
things  which  make  for  thy  peace  ...  are  hid  from  thine 
eyes "  (Luke  xix.  42).  And  St.  Paul  said,  "  If  our 
gospel  is  veiled,  it  is  veiled  in  them  that  are  perishing"; 
and  still  more  to  the  point,  "The  natural  man  receiveth 
not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  for  they  are  foolish- 
ness unto  him ;  and  he  cannot  know  them,  because 
they  are  spiritually  discerned "  (2  Cor.  iv.  3 ;  I  Cor. 
ii.  14).  To  this  law  Christ,  in  speaking  by  parables, 
was  conscious  that  He  conformed. 

But  now  let  it  be   observed   how   completely  this 


Mark  iv.  3-9.  I4-20.]  THE  SOWER.  I09 

mode  of  teaching  suited  our  Lord's  habit  of  mind.  If 
men  could  finally  rid  themselves  of  His  Divine  claim, 
they  would  at  once  recognise  the  greatest  of  the  sages ; 
and  they  would  also  find  in  Him  the  sunniest,  sweetest 
and  most  accurate  discernment  of  nature,  and  its  more 
quiet  beauties,  that  ever  became  a  vehicle  for  moral 
teaching.  The  sun  and  rain  bestowed  on  the  evil  and 
the  good,  the  fountain  and  the  trees  which  regulate  the 
waters  and  the  fruit,  the  death  of  the  seed  by  which 
it  buys  its  increase,  the  provision  for  bird  and  blossom 
without  anxiety  of  theirs,  the  preference  for  a  lily  over 
Solomon's  gorgeous  robes,  the  meaning  of  a  red  sky 
at  sunrise  and  sunset,  the  hen  gathering  her  chickens 
under  her  wing,  the  vine  and  its  branches,  the  sheep 
and  their  shepherd,  the  lightning  seen  over  all  the 
sky,  every  one  of  these  needed  only  to  be  re-set  and 
it  would  have  become  a  parable. 

All  the  Gospels,  including  the  fourth,  are  full  of 
proofs  of  this  rich  and  attractive  endowment,  this 
warm  sympathy  with  nature  ;  and  this  fact  is  among 
the  evidences  that  they  all  drew  the  same  character, 
and  drew  it  faithfully. 


THE  SOWER, 

"  Hearken :  Behold  the  sower  went  forth  to  sow :  and  it  came  to 
pass,  as  he  sowed,  some  seed  fell  by  the  way  side,  and  the  birds  came 
and  devoured  it.  And  other  fell  on  the  rocky  ground,  where  it  had 
not  TOuch  earth  ;  and  straightway  it  sprang  up,  because  it  had  no  deep- 
ness of  earth :  and  when  the  sun  was  risen,  it  was  scorched ;  and  because 
it  had  no  root,  it  withered  away.  And  other  fell  among  the  thorns, 
and  the  thorns  grew  up,  and  choked  it,  and  it  yielded  no  fruit.  And 
others  fell  into  the  good  ground,  and  yielded  fruit,  growing  up  and 
increasing;  and  brought  forth,  thirtyfold,  and  sixtyfold,  and  a  hun- 
dredfold.    And  He  said,  Who  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear.   .   .   . 

"The  sower  soweththe  word.     And  these  are  they  by  the  vayside, 


no  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

where  the  word  is  sown  ;  and  when  they  have  heard,  straightway  cometh 
Satan,  and  taketh  away  the  word  which  hath  been  sown  in  them.  And 
these  in  hke  manner  are  they  that  are  sown  upon  the  rocky  places, 
who,  when  they  have  heard  the  word,  straightway  receive  it  with  joy ; 
and  they  have  no  root  in  themselves,  but  endure  for  a  while ;  then, 
when  tribulation  or  persecution  ariseth  because  of  the  word,  straightway 
they  stumble.  And  others  are  they  that  are  sown  among  the  thorns ; 
these  are  they  that  have  heard  the  word,  and  the  cares  of  the  world,  and 
the  deceitfulness  of  riches,  and  the  lusts  of  other  things  entering  in, 
choke  the  word,  and  it  becometh  unfruitful.  And  those  are  they  that 
were  sown  upon  the  good  ground  ;  such  as  hear  the  word,  and  accept 
it,  and  bear  fruit,  thirty  fold,  and  sixtyfold,  and  a  hundredfold." — MARK 
iv.  3-9,  14-20  (RV.). 


"Hearken"  Jesus  said;  willing  to  caution  men  against 
the  danger  of  slighting  His  simple  story,  and  to  impress 
on  them  that  it  conveyed  more  than  met  their  ears. 
In  so  doing  He  protested  in  advance  against  fatalistic 
abuses  of  the  parable,  as  if  we  were  already  doomed 
to  be  hard,  or  shallow,  or  thorny,  or  fruitful  soil.  And 
at  the  close  He  brought  out  still  more  clearly  His 
protest  against  such  doctrine,  by  impressing  upon  all, 
that  if  the  vitalising  seed  were  the  imparted  word,  it 
was  their  part  to  receive  and  treasure  it.  Indolence 
and  shallowness  must  fail  to  bear  fruit :  that  is  the 
essential  doctrine  of  the  parable  ;  but  it  is  not  neces- 
sary that  we  should  remain  indolent  or  shallow :  "  He 
that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear." 

And  when  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  reproduces 
the  image  of  land  which  bringeth  forth  thorns  and 
thistles,  our  Revised  Version  rightly  brings  out  the 
fact,  on  which  indeed  the  whole  exhortation  depends, 
that  the  same  piece  of  land  might  have  borne  herbs 
meet  for  those  for  whose  sake  it  is  tilled  (vi.  7). 

Having  said  *'  Hearken,"  Jesus  added,  "  Behold." 
It  has  been  rightly  inferred  that  the  scene  was  before 


Markiv.3-9,  I4-20.]  TIJE  Surr'ER.  HI 

their  eyes.  Very  possibly  some  such  process  was 
within  sight  of  the  shore  on  which  they  were  gathered; 
but  in  any  case,  a  process  was  visible,  if  they  would 
but  see,  of  which  the  tilling  of  the  ground  was  only  a 
type.  A  nobler  seed  was  being  scattered  for  a  vaster 
harvest,  and  it  was  no  common  labourer,  but  the  true 
sower^  who  went  forth  to  sow.  "  The  sower  soweth 
the  word."  But  who  was  he  ?  St.  Matthew  tells  us 
*'the  sower  is  the  Son  of  man,"  and  whether  the  words 
were  expressly  uttered,  or  only  implied,  as  the  silence 
of  St.  Mark  and  St.  Luke  might  possibly  suggest,  it  is 
clear  that  none  of  His  disciples  could  mistake  His 
meaning.  Ages  have  passed  and  He  is  the  sowei  ^till, 
by  whatever  instrument  He  works,  for  we  are  'Jod's 
husbandry  as  well  as  God's  building.  And  the  s^^ed  is 
the  Word  of  God,  so  strangely  able  to  work  below  the 
surface  of  human  life,  invisible  at  first,  yet  vital,  and 
grasping  from  within  and  without,  from  secret  thoughts 
and  from  circumstances,  as  from  the  chemical  ingredients 
of  the  soil  and  from  the  sunshine  and  the  shower,  all 
that  will  contribute  to  its  growth,  until  the  field  itself 
is  assimilated,  spread  from  end  to  end  with  waving 
ears,-  a  corn-field  now.  This  is  why  Jesus  in  His 
second  parable  did  not  any  longer  say  "the  seed  is 
the  word,"  but  "  the  good  seed  are  the  sons  of  the 
kingdom  "  (Matt.  xiii.  i'^\  The  word  planted  was  able 
tc  identify  itself  with  the  heart. 

And  this  seed,  the  Word  of  God,  is  sown  broadcast 
as  all  our  opportunities  are  given.  A  talent  was  not 
refused  to  him  who  buried  it.  Judas  was  an  apostle. 
Men  Kiay  receive  the  grace  of  God  in  vain,  and  this  in 
more  ways  than  one.  On  some  it  produces  no  vital 
impression  w^hatever ;  it  lies  on  the  surface  of  a  mind 
which  the  feet  of  earthly  interests  have  trodden  hard. 


113  GOSPEL   OF  ST,  MARK. 

There,  is  no  chance  for  it  to  expand,  to  begin  its  opera- 
tion by  sending  out  the  smallest  tendrils  to  grasp,  to 
appropriate  anything,  to  take  root.  And  it  may  well  be 
doubted  whether  any  soul,  wholly  indifferent  to  religious  . 
truth,  ever  retained  even  its  theoretic  knowledge  long,  j 
The  foolish  heart  is  darkened.  The  fowls  of  the  air  - 
catch  away  for  ever  the  priceless  seed  of  eternity.  ^ 
Now  it  is  of  great  importance  to  observe  how  Jesus 
explained  this  calamity.  We  should  probably  have 
spoken  of  forgetfulness,  the  fading  away  of  neglected 
impressions,  or  at  most  of  some  judicial  act  of  provi- 
dence hiding  the  truth  from  the  careless.  But  Jesus 
said,  "  straightway  cometh  Satan  and  taketh  away  the 
word  which  hath  been  sown  in  them."  No  person  - 
can  fairly  explain  this  text  away,  as  men  have  striven 
to  explain  Christ's  language  to  the  demoniacs,  by  . 
any  theory  of  the  use  of  popular  language,  or  the 
toleration  of  harmless  notions.  The  introduction  of 
Satan  into  this  parable  is  unexpected  and  uncalled  for 
by  any  demand  save  one,  the  necessity  of  telling  all 
the  truth.  It  is  true  therefore  that  an  active  and 
deadly  enemy  of  souls  is  at  work  to  quicken  the 
mischief  which  neglect  and  indifference  would  them- 
selves produce,  that  evil  processes  are  helped  from 
beneath  as  truly  as  good  ones  from  above;  that  the 
seed  which  is  left  to-day  upon  the  surface  may  be 
maliciously  taken  thence  long  before  it  would  have 
perished  by  natural  decay;  that  men  cannot  reckon 
upon  stopping  short  in  their  contempt  of  grace,  since 
what  they  neglect  the  devil  snatches  quite  away  from 
them.  And  as  seed  is  only  safe  from  fowls  when 
buried  in  the  soil,  so  is  the  word  of  life  only  safe 
against  the  rapacity  of  hell  when  it  has  sunk  down 
into  our  hearts. 


Mark  iY.  3-9,  M-20.]  THE  SOWER.  1 13 

In  the  story  of  the  early  Church,  St.  Paul  sowed 
upon  such  ground  as  this  in  Athens.  Men  who 
spent  their  time  in  the  pursuit  of  artistic  and  cultivated 
novelties,  in  hearing  and  telling  some  new  thing, 
mocked  the  gospel,  or  at  best  proposed  to  hear  its 
preacher  yet  again.  How  long  did  such  a  purpose 
last? 

But  there  are  other  dangers  to  dread,  besides  abso- 
lute indifference  to  truth.  And  the  first  of  these  is  a 
too  shallow  and  easy  acquiescence.  The  message  of 
salvation  is  designed  to  affect  the  whole  of  human  life 
profoundly.  It  comes  to  bind  a  strong  man  armed,  it 
summons  easy  and  indifferent  hearts  to  wrestle  against 
spiritual  foes,  to  crucify  the  flesh,  to  die  daily.  On 
these  conditions  it  offers  the  noblest  blessings.  But 
the  conditions  are  grave  and  sobering.  If  one  hears 
them  without  solemn  and  earnest  searching  of  heart, 
he  has  only,  at  the  best,  apprehended  half  the  message. 
Christ  has  warned  us  that  we  cannot  build  a  tower 
without  sitting  down  to  count  our  means,  nor  fight 
a  hostile  king  without  reckoning  the  prospects  of 
invasion.  And  it  is  very  striking  to  compare  the 
gushing  and  impulsive  sensationalism  of  some  modern 
schools,  with  the  deliberate  and  circumspect  action  of 
St.  Paul,  «  ven  after  God  had  been  pleased  miraculously 
to  reveal  His  Son  in  him.  He  went  into  seclusion. 
He  returned  to  Damascus  to  his  first  instructor.  Four- 
een  years  afterwards  he  deliberately  laid  his  gospel 
before  the  Apostles,  lest  by  any  means  he  should  be 
running  or  had  run  in  vain.  Such  is  the  action  of  one 
penetrated  with  a  sense  of  reality  and  responsibility  in 
his  decision ;  it  is  not  the  action  likely  to  result  from 
teaching  men  that  it  suffices  to  **  say  you  believe  "  and 
to  be  ''made  happy."    And  in  this  parable,  our  Saviour 

8 


114  GOSPEL    OF  ST.  MARK. 

has  given  striking  expression  to  His  judgment  of  the 
school  which  relies  upon  mere  happiness.  Next  to 
those  who  leave  the  seed  for  Satan  to  snatch  away, 
He  places  them  "  who,  when  they  have  heard  the  word, 
straightway  receive  it  with  joy."  They  have  taken  the 
promises  without  the  precepts,  they  have  hoped  for 
the  crown  without  the  cross.  Their  type  is  the  thin 
layer  of  earth  spread  over  a  shelf  of  rock.  The  water, 
which  cannot  sink  down,  and  the  heat  reflected  up 
from  the  stone,  make  it  for  a  time  almost  a  hot  bed. 
Straightway  the  seed  sprang  up,  because  it  had  no 
deepness  of  earth.  But  the  moisture  thus  detained 
upon  the  surface  vanished  utterly  in  time  of  drought ; 
the  young  roots,  unable  to  penetrate  to  any  deeper 
supplies,  were  scorched  ;  and  it  withered  away.  That 
superficial  heat  and  moisture  was  impulsive  emotion, 
glad  to  hear  of  heaven,  and  love,  and  privilege,  but 
forgetful  to  mortify  the  flesh,  and  to  be  partaker  with 
Christ  in  His  death.  The  roots  of  a  real  Christian  life 
must  strike  deeper  down.  Consciousness  of  sin  and 
its  penalty  and  of  the  awful  price  by  which  that 
penalty  has  been  paid,  consciousness  of  what  life 
should  have  been  and  how  we  have  degraded  it, 
consciousness  of  what  it  must  yet  be  made  by  grace 
— these  do  not  lead  to  joy  so  immediate,  so  impulsive, 
as  the  growth  of  this  shallow  vegetation.  A  mature 
and  settled  joy  is  among  "  the  fruits  of  the  spirit : "  it 
is  not  the  first  blade  that  shoots  up. 

Now  because  the  sense  of  sin  and  duty  and  atonement 
have  not  done  their  sobering  work,  the  feelings,  so  easily 
quickened,  are  also  easily  perverted  :  "  When  tribulation 
or  persecution  ariseth  because  of  the  word,  straightway 
they  stumble."  These  were  not  counted  upon.  Neither 
trouble   of  mind  nor  opposition   of  wicked  men  was 


Mark iv. 3-9,  I4-20.]  THE  SOWER.  I15 

included  in  the  holiday  scheme  of  the  life  Divine.  And 
their  pressure  is  not  counter-weighted  by  that  of  any 
deep  convictions.  The  roots  have  never  penetrated 
farther  than  temporal  calamities  and  trials  can  reach. 
In  the  time  of  drought  they  have  not  enough.  They 
endure,  but  only  for  a  while. 

St.  Paul  sowed  upon  just  such  soil  in  Galatia.  There 
his  hearers  spoke  of  such  blessedness  that  they  would 
have  plucked  out  their  eyes  for  him.  But  he  became 
their  enemy  because  he  told  them  all  the  truth,  when 
only  a  part  was  welcome.  And  as  Christ  said,  Straight- 
way they  stumble,  so  St.  Paul  had  to  marvel  that  they 
were  so  soon  subverted. 

If  indifference  be  the  first  danger,  and  shallowness 
the  second,  mixed  motive  is  the  third.  Men  there  are 
who  are  very  earnest,  and  far  indeed  from  slight  views 
of  truth,  who  are  nevertheless  in  sore  danger,  because 
they  are  equally  earnest  about  other  things;  because 
they  cannot  resign  this  world,  whatever  be  their 
concern  about  the  next ;  because  the  soil  of  their  life 
would  fain  grow  two  inconsistent  harvests.  Like  seed 
sown  among  thorns,  ^'  choked "  by  their  entangling 
roots  and  light-excluding  growths,  the  word  in  such 
hearts,  though  neither  left  upon  a  hard  surface  nor 
forbidden  by  rock  to  strike  deep  into  the  earth, 
is  overmastered  by  an  unworthy  rivalry.  A  kind 
of  vegetation  it  does  produce,  but  not  such  as  the 
tiller  seeks :  the  word  becometh  unfruitful.  It  is 
the  same  lesson  as  when  Jesus  said,  "  No  man  can 
serve  two  masters.  Ye  cannot  serve  God  and 
mammon." 

Perhaps  it  is  the  one  most  needed  in  our  time  of 
feverish  religious  controversy  and  heated  party  spirit, 
when   every  one  hath  a   teaching,   hath  a   revelation, 


Il6  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

hath  a  tongue,  hath  an  interpretation,  but  scarcely 
any  have  denied  the  world  and  taken  in  exchange  a 
cross. 

St.  Paul  found  a  thorny  soil  in  Corinth  which  came 
behind  in  no  gift,  if  only  gifts  had  been  graces,  but 
was  indulgent,  factious  and  selfish,  puffed  up  amid 
flagrant  vices,  one  hungry  and  another  drunken,  while 
wrangling  about  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection. 

The  various  evils  of  this  parable  are  all  of  them 
worldliness,  differently  manifested.  The  deadening 
effect  of  habitual  forgetfulness  of  God,  treading  the  soil 
so  hard  that  no  seed  can  enter  it ;  the  treacherous  effect 
of  secret  love  of  earth,  a  buried  obstruction  refusing  to 
admit  the  gospel  into  the  recesses  of  the  life,  however 
it  may  reach  the  feelings ;  and  the  fierce  and  stubborn 
competition  of  worldly  interests,  wherever  they  are 
not  resolutely  weeded  out,  against  these  Jesus  spoke 
His  earliest  parable.  And  it  is  instructive  to  review 
the  foes  by  which  He  represented  His  Gospel  as  warred 
upon.  The  personal  activity  of  Satan  ;  "  tribulation  or 
persecution"  from  without,  and  within  the  heart  "cares" 
rather  for  self  than  for  the  dependent  and  the  poor, 
"  deceitfulness  of  riches  "  for  those  who  possess  enough 
to  trust  in,  or  to  replace  with  a  fictitious  importance 
the  only  genuine  value,  which  is  that  of  character 
(although  men  are  still  esteemed  for  being  "  worth  "  a 
round  sum,  a  strange  estimate,  to  be  made  by  Chris- 
tians, of  a  being  with  a  soul  burning  in  him) ;  and  alike 
for  rich  and  poor,  "  the  lusts  of  other  things,"  since 
none  is  too  poor  to  covet,  and  nore  so  rich  that  his 
desires  shall  not  increase,  like  some  diseases,  by  being 
fed. 

Lastly,  we  have  those  on  the  good  ground,  who  are 
not  described  by  their  sensibilities  or  their  enjoyments, 


Mark iv.  3-9,  I4-20.]  THE  SOWEi^,  1 17 


but  by  their  loyalty.  They  "  hear  the  word  and  accept 
it  and  bear  fruit."  To  accept  is  what  distinguishes 
them  alike  from  the  wayside  hearers  into  whose  atten- 
tion the  word  never  sinks,  from  the  rocky  hearers 
who  only  receive  it  with  a  superficial  welcome,  and 
from  the  thorny  hearers  who  only  give  it  a  divided 
welcome.  It  is  not  said,  as  if  the  word  were  merely 
the  precepts,  that  they  obey  it.  The  sower  of  this 
seed  is  not  he  who  bade  the  soldier  not  to  do  vio- 
lence, and  the  publican  not  to  extort :  it  is  He  who 
said,  Repent,  and  believe  the  gospel.  He  implanted 
new  hopes,  convictions,  and  affections,  as  the  germ 
which  should  unfold  in  a  new  life.  And  the  good 
fruit  is  borne  by  those  who  honestly  ** accept"  His 
word. 

Fruitfulness  is  never  in  the  gospel  the  condition  by 
which  life  is  earned,  but  it  is  always  the  test  by  which 
to  prove  it.  In  all  the  accounts  of  the  final  judgment, 
we  catch  the  principle  of  the  bold  challenge  of  St. 
James,  "  Show  me  thy  faith  without  thy  works,  and  I 
will  show  thee  my  faith  by  my  works."  The  talent 
must  produce  more  talents,  and  the  pound  more 
pounds ;  the  servant  must  have  his  loins  girt  and  a 
light  in  his  hand ;  the  blessed  are  they  who  did  unto 
Jesus  the  kindness  they  did  unto  the  least  of  His 
brethren,  and  the  accursed  are  they  who  did  it  not  to 
Jesus  in  His  people. 

We  are  not  wrong  in  preaching  that  honest  faith  in 
Christ  is  the  only  condition  of  acceptance,  and  the  way 
to  obtain  strength  for  good  works.  But  perhaps  we 
fail  to  add,  with  sufficient  emphasis,  that  good  works 
are  the  only  sufficient  evidence  of  real  faith,  of  genuine 
conversion.  Lydia,  whose  heart  the  Lord  opened  and 
who  constrained  the  Apostle  to  abide  in  her  house,  was 


il8  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK. 

converted  as  truly  as  the  gaoler  who  passed  through  all 
the  vicissitudes  of  despair,  trembling  and  astonishment, 
and  belief. 

"They  bear  fruit,  thirtyfold  and  sixtyfold  and  an 
hundredfold."  And  all  are  alike  accepted.  But  the 
parable  of  the  pounds  shows  that  all  are  not  alike  re- 
warded, and  in  equal  circumstances  superior  efficiency 
wins  a  superior  prize.  One  star  difFereth  from  another 
star  in  glory,  and  they  who  turn  many  to  righteousness 
shall  shine  as  the  sun  for  ever. 


LAMP  AND  STAND, 

**  And  He  said  unto  them,  Is  the  lamp  brought  to  be  put  under  the 
bushel,  or  under  the  bed  ?  and  not  to  be  put  on  the  stand  ?  For  there 
is  nothing  hid,  save  that  it  should  be  manifested  ;  neither  was  anything 
made  secret,  but  that  it  should  come  to  light.  If  any  man  hath  ears  to 
hear,  let  him  hear.  And  He  said  unto  them,  Take  heed  what  ye  hear  : 
with  what  measure  ye  mete  it  shall  be  measured  unto  you  :  and  more 
shall  be  given  unto  you.  For  he  that  hath,  to  him  shall  be  given :  and 
he  that  hath  not,  from  him  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which  he 
hath."— Mark  iv.  21-25  (R-  V.). 

Jesus  had  now  taught  that  the  only  good  ground  was 
that  in  which  the  good  seed  bore  fruit.  And  He  adds 
explicitly,  that  men  receive  the  truth  in  order  to  spread 
it,  and  are  given  grace  that  they  may  become,  in  turn, 
good  stewards  of  the  manifold  grace  of  God. 

"  Is  the  lamp  brought  to  be  put  under  the  bushel  or 
under  the  bed,  and  not  to  be  put  on  the  stand  ?  "  The 
language  may  possibly  be  due,  as  men  have  argued, 
to  the  simple  conditions  of  life  among  the  Hebrew 
peasantry,  who  possessed  only  one  lamp,  one  corn- 
measure,  and  perhaps  one  bed.  All  the  greater  marvel 
is  it  that  amid  such  surroundings  tie  should  have 
announced,   and   not  in   vain,   tliat  His  disciples.  His 


Mark  iv.  21-25.]  LAMP  AND  STAND.  I19 

Church,  should  become  the  hght  of  all  humanity,  "  the 
lamp."  Already  He  had  put  forward  the  same  claim 
even  more  explicitly,  saying,  "Ye  are  the  light  of  the 
world."  And  in  each  case,  He  spoke  not  in  the  intoxi- 
cation of  pride  or  self-assertion,  but  in  all  gravity,  and 
as  a  solemn  warning.  The  city  on  the  hill  could  not  be 
hid.  The  lamp  would  burn  dimly  under  the  bed ;  it 
would  be  extinguished  entirely  by  the  bushel.  Publi- 
city is  the  soul  of  religion,  since  religion  is  light.  It  is 
meant  to  diffuse  itself,  to  be,  as  He  expressed  it,  like 
leaven  which  may  be  hid  at  first,  but  cannot  be  con- 
cealed, since  it  will  leaven  all  the  lump.  And  so,  if  He 
spoke  in  parables,  and  consciously  hid  His  meaning  by 
so  doing,  this  was  not  to  withdraw  His  teaching  from 
the  masses,  it  was  to  shelter  the  flame  which  should 
presently  illuminate  all  the  house.  Nothing  was  hid, 
save  that  it  should  be  manifested,  nor  made  secret,  but 
that  it  should  come  to  light.  And  it  has  never  been 
otherwise.  Our  religion  has  no  privileged  inner  circle, 
no  esoteric  doctrine  ;  and  its  chiefs,  when  men  glorified 
one  or  another,  asked,  What  then  is  Apollos  ?  And 
what  is  Paul  ?  Ministers  through  whom  ye  believed. 
Agents  only,  for  conveying  to  others  what  they  had 
received  from  God.  And  thus  He  Who  now  spoke 
in  parables,  and  again  charged  them  not  to  make 
Him  known,  was  able  at  the  end  to  say.  In  secret 
have  I  spoken  nothing.  Therefore  He  repeats  with 
emphasis  His  former  words,  frequent  on  His  lips 
henceforward,  and  ringing  through  the  messages  He 
spoke  in  glory  to  His  Churches.  If  any  man  hath 
ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear.  None  is  excluded  but 
by  himself. 

Yet  another  caution  follows.    If  the  seed  be  the  Word, 
there  is  sore  danger  from  false  teaching  ;  from  strewing 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 


the  ground  with  adulterated  grain.  St.  Mark,  indeed, 
has  not  recorded  the  Parable  of  the  Tares.  But  there 
are  indications  of  it,  and  the  same  thought  is  audible 
in  this  saying,  "  Take  heed  what  ye  hear."  The  added 
words  are  a  little  surprising  :  "  With  what  measure  ye 
mete  it  shall  be  measured  unto  you,  and  more  shall  be 
given  unto  you."  The  last  clause  expresses  exactly 
the  principle  on  which  the  forfeited  pound  was  given  to 
Him  who  had  ten  pounds  already,  the  open  hand  of 
God  lavishing  additional  gifts  upon  him  who  was 
capable  of  using  them.  But  does  not  the  whole  state- 
ment seem  to  follow  more  suitably  upon  a  command  to 
beware  what  we  teach,  and  thus  "  mete  "  to  others,  than 
what  we  hear  ?  A  closer  examination  finds  in  this 
apparent  unfitness,  a  deeper  harmony  of  thought.  To 
"  accept "  the  genuine  word  is  the  same  as  to  bring 
forth  fruit  for  God ;  it  is  to  reckon  with  the  Lord  of 
the  talents,  and  to  yield  the  fruit  of  the  vineyard.  And 
this  is  to  "  mete,"  not  indeed  unto  man,  but  unto  God, 
Who  shows  Himself  froward  with  the  fro  ward,  and 
from  him  that  hath  not,  whose  possession  is  below  his 
accountability,  takes  away  even  that  he  hath,  but  gives 
exceeding  abundantly  above  all  they  ask  or  think  to 
those  who  have,  who  are  not  disobedient  to  the  heavenly 
calling. 

All  this  is  most  delicately  connected  with  what  pre- 
cedes it;  and  the  parables,  hiding  the  truth  from 
some,  giving  it  authority,  and  colour,  and  effect  to 
others,  were  a  striking  example  of  the  process  here 
announced. 

Never  was  the  warning  to  be  heedful  what  we  hear, 
more  needed  than  at  present.  Men  think  themselves 
free  to  follow  any  teacher,  especially  if  he  be  eloquent, 
to  read  any  book,  if  only  it  be  in  demand,  and  to  dis- 


Mark iv. 26-29.]     THE  SEED  GROWING  SECRETLY.  lai 

CUSS  any  theory,  provided  it  be  fashionable,  while 
perfectly  well  aware  that  they  are  neither  earnest 
inquirers  after  truth,  nor  qualified  champions  against 
its  assailants.  For  what  then  do  they  read  and 
hear  ?  For  the  pleasure  of  a  rounded  phrase,  or  to 
augment  the  prattle  of  conceited  ignorance  in  a 
drawing-room. 

De  we  wonder  when  these  players  with  edged  tools 
injure  .hemselves,  and  become  perverts  or  agnostics  ? 
It  would  be  more  wonderful  if  they  remained  unhurt, 
since  Jesus  said,  *'  Take  heed  what  ye  hear  .  .  .  from 
him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken  even  that  he  hath." 
A  rash  and  uninstructed  exposure  of  our  intellects  to 
evil  influences,  is  meting  to  God  with  an  unjust  measure, 
as  really  as  a  wilful  plunge  into  any  other  temptation, 
since  we  are  bidden  to  cleanse  ourselves  from  all  de- 
filement of  the  spirit  as  well  as  of  the  flesh. 

THE  SEED  GROWING  SECRETLY, 

**  And  He  said,  So  is  the  kingdom  of  God,  as  if  a  man  should  cast 
seed  upon  the  earth  ;  and  should  sleep  and  rise  night  and  day,  and  the 
seed  should  spring  up  and  grow,  he  knoweth  not  how.  The  earth 
beareth  fruit  of  herself ;  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  then  the  full  com 
in  the  ear.  But  when  the  fruit  is  ripe,  straightway  he  putteth  forth  the 
sickle,  because  the  harvest  is  come." — Mark  iv.  26-29  (R.V,). 

St.  Mark  alone  records  this  parable  of  a  sower  who 
sleeps  by  night,  and  rises  for  other  business  by  day, 
and  knows  not  how  the  seed  springs  up.  That  is  not 
the  sower's  concern :  all  that  remains  for  him  is  to  put 
forth  the  sickle  when  the  harvest  is  come. 

It  is  a  startling  parable  for  us  who  believe  in  the 
fostering  care  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  And  the  paradox 
is  forced  on  our  attention  by  the  words  "the  earth 
beareth  fru  t  of  herself,"   contrasting   strangely  as  it 


laa  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

does  with  such  other  assertions,  as  that  the  branch 
cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself,  that  without  Christ  we 
can  do  nothing,  and  that  when  we  Hve  it  is  not  we  but 
Christ  who  Hveth  in  us. 

It  will  often  help  us  to  understand  a  paradox  if  we 
can  discover  another  like  it.  And  exactly  such  an  one 
as  this  will  be  found  in  the  record  of  creation.  God 
rested  on  the  seventh  day  from  all  His  work,  yet  we 
know  that  His  providence  never  slumbers,  that  by 
Him  all  things  consist,  and  that  Jesus  defended  His 
own  work  of  healing  on  a  Sabbath  day  by  urging  that 
the  Sabbath  of  God  was  occupied  in  gracious  provision 
for  His  world.  "  My  Father  worketh  hitherto,  and  I 
work."  Thus  the  rest  of  God  from  creative  work 
says  nothing  about  His  energies  in  that  other  field  of 
providential  care.  Exactly  so  Jesus  here  treats  only 
of  what  m«y  be  called  the  creative  spiritual  work,  the 
deposit  of  the  seed  of  life.  And  the  essence  of  this 
remarkable  parable  is  the  assertion  that  we  are  to  expect 
an  orderly,  quiet  and  gradual  development  from  this 
principle  of  Hfe,  not  a  series  of  communications  from 
without,  of  additional  revelations,  of  semi-miraculous 
interferences.  The  life  of  grace  is  a  natural  process 
in  the  supernatural  sphere.  In  one  sense  it  is  all 
of  God,  who  maketh  His  sun  to  rise,  and  sendeth 
rain,  without  which  the  earth  could  bear  no  fruit  of 
herself.  In  another  sense  we  must  work  out  our  own 
salvation  all  the  more  earnestly  because  it  is  God 
that  worketh  in  us. 

Now  this  parable,  thus  explained,  has  been  proved 
true  in  the  wonderful  history  of  the  Church.  She  has 
grown,  not  only  in  extent  but  by  development,  as 
marvellously  as  a  corn  of  wheat  which  is  now  a  waving 
wheat-stem  with    its  ripening   ear.      When    Cardinal 


Mark iv.  26-29.]     THE  SEED  GROWING  SECRETLY.  123 

Newman  urged  that  an  ancient  Christian,  returning 
to  earth,  would  recognise  the  services  and  the  Church 
of  Rome,  and  would  fail  to  recognise  ours,  he  was 
probably  mistaken.  To  go  no  farther,  there  is  no 
Church  on  earth  so  unlike  the  Churches  of  the  New 
Testament  as  that  which  offers  praise  to  God  in  a 
strange  tongue.  St.  Paul  apprehended  that  a  stranger 
in  such  an  assembly  would  reckon  the  worshippers  mad. 
But  in  any  case  the  argument  forgets  that  the  whole 
kingdom  of  God  is  to  resemble  seed,  not  in  a  drawer, 
but  in  the  earth,  and  advancing  towards  the  harvest. 
It  must  "  die "  to  much  if  it  will  bring  forth  fruit. 
It  must  acquire  strange  bulk,  strange  forms,  strange 
organisms.  It  must  become,  to  those  who  only 
knew  it  as  it  was,  quite  as  unrecognisable  as  our 
Churches  are  said  to  be.  And  yet  the  changes  must 
be  those  of  logical  growth,  not  of  corruption.  And 
this  parable  tells  us  they  must  be  accomplished  with- 
out any  special  interference  such  as  marked  the  sowing 
time.  Well  then,  the  parable  is  a  prophecy.  Move- 
ment after  movement  has  modified  the  life  of  the 
Church.  Even  its  structure  is  not  all  it  was.  But 
these  changes  have  every  one  been  wrought  by  human 
agency,  they  have  come  from  within  it,  like  the  force 
which  pushes  the  germ  out  of  the  soil,  and  expands 
the  bud  into  the  full  corn  in  the  ear.  There  has  been 
no  grafting  knife  to  insert  a  new  principle  of  richer 
life ;  the  gospel  and  the  sacraments  of  our  Lord  have 
contained  in  them  the  promise  and  potency  of  all  that 
was  yet  to  be  unfolded,  all  the  gracefulness  and  all  the 
fruit  And  these  words,  *^the  earth  beareth  fruit  of 
herself,  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  then  the  full  corn 
in  the  ear,"  each  so  different,  and  yet  so  dependent  on 
what  preceded,  teach  us  two  great  ecclesiastical  lessons. 


124  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

They  condemn  the  violent  and  revolutionary  changes, 
which  would  not  develop  old  germs  but  tear  them  open 
or  perhaps  pull  them  up.  Much  may  be  distasteful  to 
the  spirit  of  sordid  utilitarianism  ;  a  mere  husk,  which 
nevertheless  within  it  shelters  precious  grain,  other- 
wise sure  to  perish.  If  thus  we  learn  to  respect  the 
old,  still  more  do  we  learn  that  what  is  new  has  also 
its  all-important  part  to  play.  The  blade  and  the  ear 
in  turn  are  innovations.  We  must  not  condemn  those 
new  forms  of  Christian  activity,  Christian  association, 
and  Christian  councils,  which  new  times  evoke,  until 
we  have  considered  well  whether  they  are  truly  ex- 
pansions, in  the  light  and  heat  of  our  century,  of  the 
sacred  life-germ  of  the  ancient  faith  and  the  ancient 
love. 

And  what  lessons  has  this  parable  for  the  individual? 
Surely  that  of  active  present  faith,  not  waiting  for 
future  gifts  of  light  or  feeling,  but  confident  that  the 
seed  already  sown,  the  seed  of  the  word,  has  power  to 
develop  into  the  rich  fruit  of  Christian  character.  In 
this  respect  the  parable  supplements  the  first  one. 
From  that  we  learned  that  if  the  soil  were  not  in  fault, 
if  the  heart  were  honest  and  good,  the  seed  would 
fructify.  From  this  we  learn  that  these  conditions 
suffice  for  a  perfect  harvest.  The  incessant,  all-impor- 
tant help  of  God,  we  have  seen,  is  not  denied;  it  is 
taken  for  granted,  as  the  atmospheric  and  magnetic 
influences  upon  the  grain.  So  should  we  reverentially 
and  thankfully  rely  upon  the  aid  of  God,  and  then, 
instead  of  waiting  for  strange  visitations  and  special 
stirrings  of  grace,  account  that  we  already  possess 
enough  to  make  us  responsible  for  the  harvest  of  the 
soul.  Multitudes  of  souls,  whose  true  calling  is,  in 
obedient  trust,  to  arise  and  walk,  are  at  this  moment 


Mark iv. 26  29.]     THE  SEED  GROWING  SECRETLY,  125 

lying  impotent  beside  some  pool  which  they  expect  an 
angel  to  stir,  and  into  which  they  fain  would  then  be 
put  by  some  one,  they  know  not  whom — multitudes  of 
expectant,  inert,  inactive  souls,  who  know  not  that  the 
text  they  have  most  need  to  ponder  is  this :  "  the  earth 
beareth  fruit  of  itself."  For  want  of  this  they  are 
actually,  day  by  day,  receiving  the  grace  of  God  in 
vain. 

We  learn  also  to  be  content  with  gradual  progress. 
St.  John  did  not  blame  the  children  and  young  men 
to  whom  he  wrote,  because  they  were  not  mature  in 
wisdom  and  experience.  St.  Paul  exhorts  us  to  grow 
up  in  all  things  into  Him  which  is  the  Head,  even 
Christ.  They  do  not  ask  for  more  than  steady  growth; 
and  their  Master,  as  He  distrusted  the  fleeting  joy  of 
hearers  whose  hearts  were  shallow,  now  explicitly  bids 
us  not  to  be  content  with  any  first  attainment,  not  to 
count  all  done  if  we  are  converted,  but  to  develop 
first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  and  lastly  the  full  corn  in 
the  ear. 

Does  it  seem  a  tedious  weary  sentence  ?  Are  we 
discontent  for  want  of  conscious  interferences  of 
heaven  ?  Do  we  complain  that,  to  human  conscious- 
ness, the  great  Sower  sleeps  and  rises  up  and  leaves 
the  grain  to  fare  He  knows  not  how  ?  It  is  only  for  a 
little  while.  When  the  fruit  is  ripe,  He  will  Himself 
gather  it  into  His  eternal  garner. 


126  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 


THE  MUSTARD  SEED, 

"  And  He  said,  How  shall  we  liken  the  kingdom  of  God  ?  or  in  what 
parable  shall  we  set  it  forth  ?  It  is  like  a  grain  of  mustard  seed,  which, 
when  it  is  sown  upon  the  earth,  though  it  be  less  than  all  the  seeds 
that  are  upon  the  earth,  yet  when  it  is  sown,  groweth  up,  and  becometh 
greater  than  all  the  herbs,  and  putteth  out  great  branches  ;  so  that  the 
birds  of  the  heaven  can  lodge  under  the  shadow  thereof.  And  with 
many  such  parables  spake  He  the  word  unto  them,  as  they  were  able 
to  hear  it :  and  without  a  parable  spake  He  not  unto  them  :  but 
privately  to  His  own  disciples  He  expounded  all  things." — Mark 
iv.  30-34  (R.V.). 

St.  Mark  has  recorded  one  other  parable  of  this 
great  cycle.  Jesus  now  invites  the  disciples  to  let 
their  own  minds  play  upon  the  subject.  Each  is  to 
ask  himself  a  question  :  How  shall  we  liken  the  king- 
dom of  God  ?  or  in  what  parable  shall  we  set  it  forth  ? 

A  gentle  pause,  time  for  them  to  form  some  splendid 
and  ambitious  image  in  their  minds,  and  then  we  can 
suppose  with  what  surprise  they  heard  His  own 
answer,  "  It  is  like  a  grain  of  mustard  seed."  And 
truly  some  Christians  of  a  later  day  might  be  aston- 
ished also,  if  they  could  call  up  a  fair  image  of  their 
own  conceptions  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  compare 
it  with  this  figure,  employed  by  Jesus. 

But  here  one  must  observe  a  peculiarity  in  our 
Saviour's  use  of  images.  His  illustrations  of  His  first 
coming,  and  of  His  work  of  grace,  which  are  many,  are 
all  of  the  homeliest  kind.  He  is  a  shepherd  who  seeks 
one  sheep.  He  is  not  an  eagle  that  fluttereth  over  her 
young  and  beareth  them  on  her  pinions,  but  a  hen  who 
ga^hereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings.  Never  once 
does  He  rise  into  that  high  and  poetic  strain  with 
which  His  followers  have  loved  to  sing  of  the  Star 
of    Bethlehem,  and  which  Isaiah  lavished  beforehand 


Mark  iv.  30-34.]         THE  MUSTARD  SEED.  127 

upon  the  birth  of  the  Prince  of  Peace.  There  is  no 
language  more  intensely  concentrated  and  glowing  than 
He  has  employed  to  describe  the  judgment  of  the 
hypocrites  who  rejected  Him,  of  Jerusalem,  and  of  the 
world  at  last.  But  when  He  speaks  of  His  first  coming 
and  its  effects,  it  is  not  of  that  sunrise  to  which  all 
kings  and  nations  shall  hasten,  but  of  a  little  grain  of 
mustard  seed,  which  is  to  become  "greater  than  all 
the  herbs,"  and  put  forth  great  branches,  "  so  that  the 
birds  of  the  heaven  can  lodge  under  the  shadow  of 
them."  When  one  thinks  of  such  an  image  for  such 
an  event,  of  the  founding  of  the  kingdom  of  God, 
and  its  advance  to  universal  supremacy,  represented  by 
the  small  seed  of  a  shrub  which  grows  to  the  height 
of  a  tree,  and  even  harbours  birds,  he  is  conscious 
almost  of  incongruity.  But  when  one  reconsiders  it, 
he  is  filled  with  awe  and  reverence.  For  this  exactly 
expresses  the  way  of  thinking  natural  to  One  who  has 
stooped  immeasurably  down  to  the  task  which  all 
others  feel  to  be  so  lofty.  There  is  a  poem  of  Shelley, 
which  expresses  the  relative  grea<-ness  of  three  spirits 
by  the  less  and  less  value  which  they  set  on  the 
splendours  of  the  material  heavens.  To  the  first  they 
are  a  palace-roof  of  golden  lights,  to  the  second  but 
the  mind's  first  chamber,  to  the  last  only  drops  which 
Nature's  mighty  heart  drives  through  thinnest  veins. 
Now  that  which  was  to  Isaiah  the  exalting  of  every 
valley  and  the  bringing  low  of  every  mountain,  and  to 
Daniel  the  overthrow  of  a  mighty  image  whose  aspect 
was  terrible,  by  a  stone  cut  out  without  hands,  was  to 
Jesus  but  the  sowing  of  a  grain  of  mustard  seed. 
Could  any  other  have  spoken  thus  of  the  founding  of 
the  kingdom  of  God  ?  An  enthusiast  over- values  his 
work,   he  can  think  of  nothing  else;  and  he  expects 


128  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

immediate  revolutions.  Jesus  was  keenly  aware  that 
His  work  in  itself  was  very  small,  no  more  than  the 
sowing  of  a  seed,  and  even  of  the  least,  popularly 
speaking,  among  all  seeds.  Clearly  He  did  not  over- 
rate the  apparent  effect  of  His  work  on  earth.  And 
indeed,  what  germ  of  religious  teaching  could  be  less 
promising  than  the  doctrine  of  the  cross,  held  by  a  few 
peasants  in  a  despised  province  of  a  nation  already 
subjugated  and  soon  to  be  overwhelmed? 

The  image  expresses  more  than  the  feeble  beginning 
and  victorious  issue  of  His  work,  more  than  even  the 
gradual  and  logical  process  by  which  this  final  triumph 
should  be  attained.  All  this  we  found  in  the  preceding 
parable.  But  here  the  emphasis  is  laid  on  the  develop- 
ment of  Christ's  influence  in  unexpected  spheres.  Un- 
Uke  other  herbs,  the  mustard  in  Eastern  climates  does 
grow  into  a  tree,  shoot  out  great  branches  from  the 
main  stem,  and  give  shelter  to  the  birds  of  the  air.  So 
has  the  Christian  faith  developed  ever  new  collateral 
agencies,  charitable,  educational,  and  social :  so  have 
architecture,  music,  literature,  flourished  under  its 
shade,  and  there  is  not  one  truly  human  interest  which 
would  not  be  deprived  of  its  best  shelter  if  the  rod  of 
Jesse  were  hewn  down.  Nay,  we  may  urge  that  the 
Church  itself  has  become  the  most  potent  force  in  direc- 
tions not  its  own  :  it  broke  the  chains  of  the  negro ;  it 
asserts  the  rights  of  woman  and  of  the  poor ;  its  noble 
literature  is  finding  a  response  in  the  breast  of  a 
hundred  degraded  races ;  the  herb  has  become  a  tree. 

And  so  in  the  life  of  individuals,  if  the  seed  be  allowed 
its  due  scope  and  place  to  grow,  it  gives  shelter  and 
blessing  to  whatsoever  things  are  honest  and  lovely, 
not  only  if  there  be  any  virtue,  but  also  if  there  be  any 
praise. 


Mark  iv.  39  ;  v.  15, 31, 41.]    FOUR  MIRACLES,  129 

Well  is  it  with  the  nation,  and  well  with  the  soul, 
when  the  faith  of  Jesus  is  not  rigidly  restricted  to  a 
prescribed  sphere,  when  the  leaves  which  are  for  the 
healing  of  the  nations  cast  their  shadow  broad  and  cool 
over  all  the  spaces  in  which  all  its  birds  of  song  are 
nestling. 

A  remarkable  assertion  is  added.  Although  the  para- 
bohc  mode  of  teaching  was  adopted  in  judgment,  yet  its 
severe  effect  was  confined  within  the  narrowest  limits. 
His  many  parables  were  spoken  "  as  they  were  able  to 
hear,"  but  only  to  His  own  disciples  privately  was  all 
their  meaning  expounded. 

FOUR  MIRACLES. 

"  And  there  was  a  great  calm." — Mark  iv.  39  (R.V.). 
"  Behold,  him  that  was  possessed  with  devils,  sitting,  clothed  and  in 
his  right  mind,  even  him  that  had  the  legion." — ▼.  15  (R.V.), 
«' Who  touched  Me?"— V.  31  (R.V.). 
"  Tahtha  cumi.  "—v.  41  (R.  V. ). 

There  are  two  ways,  equally  useful,  of  studying 
Scripture,  as  there  are  of  regarding  the  other  book 
of  God,  the  face  of  Nature.  We  may  bend  over  a  wild 
flower,  or  gaze  across  a  landscape  ;  and  it  will  happen 
that  a  naturalist,  pursuing  a  moth,  loses  sight  of  a 
mountain-range.  It  is  a  well-known  proverb,  that 
one  may  fail  to  see  the  wood  for  the  trees,  losing  in 
details  the  general  effect.  And  so  the  careful  student 
of  isolated  texts  may  never  perceive  the  force  and 
cohesion  of  a  connected  passage. 

The  reader  of  a  Gospel  narrative  thinks,  that  by 
pondering  it  as  a  whole,  he  secures  himself  against 
any  such  misfortune.  But  a  narrative  dislocated,  often 
loses  as  much  as  a  detached  verse.  The  actions  of  our 
Lord  are  often  exquisitely  grouped,  as  becometh  Him 

9 


I30  Gl  SPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

Who  hath  made  everything  not  beautiful  only,  but 
especially  beautiful  in  its  season.  And  we  should  not 
be  content  without  combining  the  two  ways  of  reading 
Scripture,  the  detailed  and  the  rapid, — hngering  at 
times  to  apprehend  the  marvellous  force  of  a  solitary 
verse,  and  again  sweeping  over  a  broad  expanse,  hke 
a  surveyor,  who,  to  map  a  country,  stretches  his 
triangles  from  mountain  peak  to  peak. 

We  have  reached  a  point  at  which  St.  Mark  records  a 
special  outshining  of  miraculous  power.  Four  striking 
works  follow  each  other  without  a  break,  and  it  must 
not  for  a  moment  be  supposed  that  the  narrative  is  thus 
constructed,  certain  intermediate  discourses  and  events 
being  sacrificed  for  the  purpose,  without  a  dell N,i ate 
and  a  truthful  intention.  That  intention  is  to  represent 
the  effect,  intense  and  exalting,  produced  by  such  a 
cycle  of  wonders  on  the  minds  of  His  disciples.  They 
saw  them  come  close  upon  each  other  :  we  should  lose 
the  impression  as  we  read,  if  other  incidents  were 
allowed  to  interpose  themselves.  It  is  one  more 
example  of  St.  Mark's  desire  to  throw  light,  above  all 
things,  upon  the  energy  and  power  of  the  sacred  Hfe. 

We  have  to  observe  therefore  the  bearing  of  these 
four  miracles  on  each  other,  and  upon  what  precedes, 
before  studying  them  one  by  one. 

It  was  a  time  of  trial.  The  Pharisees  had  decided 
that  He  had  a  devil.  His  relatives  had  said  He  was 
beside  Himself  His  manner  of  teaching  had  changed, 
because  the  people  should  see  without  perceiving,  and 
hear  without  understanding.  They  who  understood 
His  parables  heard  much  of  seed  that  failed,  of  success 
a  great  way  off,  of  a  kingdom  which  would  indeed  be 
great  at  last,  but  for  the  present  weak  and  small.  And 
it  is  certain  that  there  must  have  been  heavy  hearts 


Mark  iv.  39  ;v.  15, 31.41]    ^OUR  MIRACLES.  131 

among  those  who  left,  with  Him,  the  populous  side  of 
the  lake,  to  cross  over  into  remote  and  semi-pagan 
retirement.  To  encourage  them,  and  as  if  in  protest 
against  His  rejection  by  the  authorities,  Jesus  eaters 
upon  this  great  cycle  of  miracles. 

They  find  themselves,  as  the  Church  has  often  since 
been  placed,  and  as  every  human  soul  has  had  to  feel 
itself,  far  from  shore,  and  tempest-beaten.  The  rage 
of  human  foes  is  not  so  deaf,  so  implacable,  as  that  of 
wind  and  wave.  It  is  the  stress  of  adverse  circum- 
stances in  the  direst  form.  But  Jesus  proves  Himself 
to  be  Master  of  the  forces  of  nature  which  would  over- 
whelm them. 

Nay,  they  learn  that  His  seeming  indifference  is  no 
proof  that  they  are  neglected,  by  the  rebuke  He  speaks 
to  their  over-importunate  appeals,  Why  are  ye  so  fear- 
ful ?  have  ye  not  yet  faith  ?  And  they,  who  might 
have  been  shaken  by  the  infidelity  ot  other  men,  fear 
exceedingly  as  they  behold  the  obedience  of  the  wind 
and  the  sea,  and  ask.  Who  then  is  this  ? 

But  in  their  mission  as  His  disciples,  a  worse  danger 
than  the  enmity  of  man  or  convulsions  of  nature  awaits 
them.  On  landing,  they  are  at  once  confronted  by  one 
whom  an  evil  spirit  has  made  exceeding  fierce,  so  that 
no  man  could  pass  by  that  •  way.  It  is  their  way 
nevertheless,  and  they  must  tread  it.  And  the  de- 
moniac adores,  and  the  evil  spirits  themselves  are 
abject  in  supplication,  and  at  the  word  of  Jesus  are 
expelled.  Even  the  inhabitants,  who  will  not  receive 
Him,  are  awe-struck  and  deprecatory,  and  if  at  their 
bidding  Jesus  turns  away  again,  His  followers  may 
judge  whether  the  habitual  meekness  of  such  a  one 
is  due  to  feebleness  or  to  a  noble  self-command. 

Landing  once   more,  they  are  soon  accosted  by  a 


133  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

ruler  of  the  synagogue,  whom  sorrow  has  purified  from 
the  prejudices  of  his  class.  And  Jesus  is  about  to  heal 
the  daughter  of  Jairus,  when  another  form  of  need  is 
brought  to  light.  A  slow  and  secret  decline,  wasting 
the  vital  powers,  a  silent  ^voe,  speechless,  stealthily 
approaching  the  Healer — over  this  grief  also  He  is 
Lord.  And  it  is  seen  that  neither  the  visible  actions 
of  Jesus  nor  the  audible  praises  of  His  petitioners  can 
measure  the  power  that  goes  out  of  Him,  the  physical 
benefits  which  encompass  the  Teacher  as  a  halo  enve- 
lopes flame. 

Circumstances,  and  the  fiends  of  the  pit,  and  the 
woes  that  waste  the  lives  of  men,  over  these  He  has 
been  seen  to  triumph.  But  behind  all  that  we  strive 
with  here,  there  lurks  the  last  enemy,  and  he  also  shall 
be  subdued.  And  now  first  an  example  is  recorded  of 
what  we  know  to  have  already  taken  place,  the  con- 
quest of  death  by  his  predicted  Spoiler.  Youth  and 
gentle  maidenhood,  high  hope  and  prosperous  circum- 
stances have  been  wasted,  but  the  call  of  Jesus  is  heard 
by  the  ear  that  was  stopped  with  dust,  and  the  spirit 
obeys  Him  in  the  far  off  realm  of  the  departed,  and 
they  who  have  just  seen  such  other  marvels,  are  never- 
theless amazed  with  a  great  amazement. 

No  cycle  of  miracles  could  be  more  rounded,  sym- 
metrical and  exhaustive;  none  could  better  vindicate 
to  His  disciples  His  impugned  authority,  or  brace  their 
endangered  faith,  or  fit  them  for  what  almost  imme- 
diately followed,  their  own  commission,  and  the  first 
journey  upon  which  they  too  cast  out  many  devils,  and 
anointed  with  oil  many  that  were  sick,  and  healed  them. 


Markiv.35-4t;vi.47-52-]     ^^^'    ^^<^   STOA'A/S.  13I 


TJ/£    TWO    STORMS. 

**  And  on  :hat  day,  when  even  was  come,  He  saith  unto  them.  Let  ni 
go  over  unto  the  other  side.  And  leaving  the  multitude,  they  take 
Him  with  them,  even  as  He  was,  in  the  boat.  And  other  boats  were 
with  Him.  And  there  ariseth  a  great  storm  of  wind,  and  the  waves 
beat  into  the  boat,  insomuch  that  the  boat  was  now  filluig.  And  He 
Himself  was  in  the  stern,  asleep  on  the  cushion  :  and  they  awake  Hini, 
and  say  unto  Him,  Master,  carest  Thou  not  that  we  perish  ?  And  He 
awoke,  and  rebuked  the  wind,  and  said  unto  the  sea.  Peace,  be  still. 
And  the  wind  ceased,  and  there  was  a  great  calm.  And  He  said  unto 
them.  Why  are  ye  fearful  ?  have  ye  not  yet  faith  ?  And  they  feared 
exceedingly,  and  said  one  to  another,  Who  then  is  this,  thai  even  the 
wind  and  the  sea  obey  him  ?" — Mark  iv.  35-41  (R.V.). 

"  And  when  even  was  come,  the  bont  was  in  the  midst  of  the  sea.  and 
He  alone  on  the  land.  And  seeing  them  distressed  in  rowing,  for  the 
wind  was  contrary  unto  them,  about  the  fourth  watch  of  the  night  He 
Cometh  unto  them,  walking  on  the  sea  ;  and  He  would  have  passed  by 
them  :  but  they,  when  they  saw  Him  walking  on  the  sea,  supposed  that 
it  was  an  apparition,  and  cried  out  :  for  they  all  saw  Him,  and  were 
troubled.  But  He  straightway  spaVe  with  them,  and  saith  unto  them. 
Be  of  good  cheer :  it  is  I ;  be  not  afraid.  And  He  went  up  unio  them 
into  the  boat  ;  and  the  wind  ceased  :  and  they  were  sore  amazed  in 
themselves.  For  they  understood  not  concerning  the  loaves,  but  their 
hearts  were  hardened." — Mark  vi.  47-52  (R.V.). 

Few  readers  are  insensible  to  the  wonderful  power 
with  which  the  Gospels  tell  the  story  of  the  two  storms 
upon  the  lake.  The  narratives  are  favourites  in  every 
Sunday  school ;  they  form  the  basis  of  countless 
hymns  and  poems ;  and  we  always  recur  to  them  with 
fresh  delight. 

In  the  first  account  we  see  as  in  a  picture  the 
weariness  of  the  great  Teacher,  when,  the  long  day 
being  over  and  the  multitude  dismissed,  He  retreats 
across  the  sea  without  preparation,  and  "  as  He  was," 
and  sinks  to  sleep  on  the  one  cushion  in  the  stern, 
undisturbed  by  the  raging  tempest  or  by  the  waves 
which  beat  into  the  boat.     We  observe  the  reluctance 


134  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


of  the  disciples  to  arouse  Him  until  the  peril  is  extreme, 
and  the  boat  is  ^'now"  filling.  We  hear  from  St. 
Mark,  the  associate  of  St.  Peter,  the  presumptuous  and 
characteristic  cry  which  expresses  terror,  and  perhaps 
dread  lest  His  tranquil  slumbers  may  indicate  a  separa- 
tion between  His  cause  and  theirs,  who  perish  while 
He  is  unconcerned.  We  admire  equally  the  calm  and 
masterful  words  which  quell  the  tempest,  and  those 
which  enjoin  a  faith  so  lofty  as  to  endure  the  last 
extremities  of  peril  without  dismay,  without  agitation 
in  its  prayers.  We  observe  the  strange  incident,  that 
no  sooner  does  the  storm  cease  than  the  waters, 
commonly  seething  for  many  hours  afterwards,  grow 
calm.  And  the  picture  is  completed  by  the  mention  of 
their  new  dread  (fear  of  the  supernatural  Man  replacing 
their  terror  amid  the  convulsions  of  nature),  and  of 
their  awestruck  questioning  among  themselves. 

In  the  second  narrative  we  see  the  ship  far  out  in 
the  lake,  but  watched  by  One,  Who  is  alone  upon  the 
land.  Through  the  gloom  He  sees  them  "  tormented  " 
by  fruitless  rowing  ;  but  though  this  is  the  reason  why 
He  comes.  He  is  about  to  pass  them  by.  The  watch 
of  the  night  is  remembered  ;  it  is  the  fourth.  The  cry 
of  their  alarm  is  universal,  for  they  all  saw  Him  and 
were  troubled.  We  are  told  of  the  promptitude  with 
which  He  thereupon  relieved  their  fears ;  we  see  Him 
climb  up  into  the  boat,  and  the  sudden  ceasing  of  the 
storm,  and  their  amazement.  Nor  is  that  after-thought 
omitted  in  which  they  blamed  themselves  for  their 
astonishment.  If  their  hearts  had  not  been  hardened, 
the  miracle  of  the  loaves  would  have  taught  them 
that  Jesus  was  the  master  of  the  physical  world. 

Now  all  this  picturesque  detail  belongs  to  a  single 
Gospel.      And    it   is   exactly   what    a    believer  would 


Markiv.35-4>;vi.47-52-]     THE   TWO  STORMS,  135 

expect.  How  much  soever  the  healing  of  disease 
might  interest  St.  Luke  the  physician,  who  relates  all 
such  events  so  vividly,  it  would  have  impressed  the 
patient  himself  yet  more,  and  an  account  of  it  by  him, 
if  we  had  it,  would  be  full  of  graphic  touches.  Now 
these  two  miracles  were  wrought  for  the  rescue  of  the 
apostles  themselves.  The  Twelve  took  the  place  held 
in  others  by  the  lame,  the  halt  and  the  blind :  the 
suspense,  the  appeal,  and  the  joy  of  deliverance  were 
all  their  own.  It  is  therefore  no  wonder  that  we  find 
their  accounts  of  these  especial  miracles  so  picturesque. 
But  this  is  a  solid  evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  narra- 
tives ;  for  while  the  remembrance  of  such  actual  events 
should  thrill  with  agitated  life,  there  is  no  reason  why 
a  legend  of  the  kind  should  be  especially  clear  and 
vivid.  The  same  argument  might  easily  be  carried 
farther.  When  the  disciples  began  to  reproach  them- 
selves for  their  unbelieving  astonishment,  they  were 
naturally  conscious  of  having  failed  to  learn  the  lesson 
which  had  been  taught  them  just  before.  Later  students 
and  moralists  would  have  observed  that  another  miracle, 
a  little  earlier,  was  a  still  closer  precedent,  but  they 
naturally  blamed  themselves  most  for  being  blind  to 
what  was  immediately  before  their  eyes.  Now  when 
Jesus  walked  upon  the  waters  and  the  disciples  were 
amazed,  it  is  not  said  that  they  forgot  how  He  had 
already  stilled  a  tempest,  but  they  considered  not  the 
miracle  of  the  loaves,  for  their  heart  was  hardened. 
In  touches  like  this  we  find  the  influence  of  a  by- 
stander beyond  denial. 

Every  student  of  Scripture  must  have  observed  the 
special  significance  of  those  parables  and  miracles 
which  recur  a  second  time  with  certain  designed  varia- 
tions.    In   the   miraculous  draughts  of  fishes,  Christ 


136  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

Himself  avowed  an  allusion  to  the  catching  of  men. 
And  the  Church  has  always  discerned  a  spiritual 
intention  in  these  two  storms,  in  one  of  which  Christ 
slept,  while  in  the  other  His  disciples  toiled  alone,  and 
which  express,  between  them,  the  whole  strain  exer- 
cised upon  a  devout  spirit  by  adverse  circumstances. 
Dangers  never  alarmed  one  who  realized  both  the 
presence  of  Jesus  and  His  vigilant  care.  Temptation 
enters  only  because  this  is  veiled.  Why  do  adversities 
press  hard  upon  me,  if  indeed  I  belong  to  Christ  ?  He 
must  either  be  indifferent  and  sleeping,  or  else  absent 
altogether  from  my  frail  and  foundering  bark.  It  is 
thus  that  we  let  go  our  confidence,  and  incur  agonies  of 
mental  suffering,  and  the  rebuke  of  our  Master,  even 
though  He  continues  to  be  the  Protector  of  His  un- 
worthy people. 

On  the  voyage  of  life  we  may  conceive  of  Jesus 
as  our  Companion,  for  He  is  with  us  always,  or  as 
watching  us  from  the  everlasting  hills,  whither  it  was 
expedient  for  us  that  He  should  go.  Nevertheless,  we 
are  storm-tossed  and  in  danger.  Although  we  are  His, 
and  not  separated  from  Him  by  any  conscious  dis- 
obedience, j'et  the  conditions  of  life  are  unmftigated, 
the  winds  as  wild,  the  waves  as  merciless,  the  boat  as 
cruelly  "  tormented  "  as  ever.  And  no  rescue  comes  : 
Jesus  is  asleep  :  He  cares  not  that  we  perish.  Then 
we  pray  after  a  fashion  so  clamorous,  and  with  suppli- 
cation so  like  demands,  that  we  too  appear  to  have 
undertaken  to  awake  our  Lord.  Then  we  have  to 
learn  from  the  first  of  these  miracles,  and  especially 
from  its  delay.  The  disciples  were  safe,  had  they  only 
known  it,  whether  Jesus  would  have  interposed  of  His 
own  accord,  or  whether  they  might  still  have  needed  to 
appeal  to  Him,  but  in  a  gentler  fashion.     We  may  ask 


Mark  iv.  35-41 J  vi.  47-52-]     THE   TWO  STORMS,  137 

help,  provided  that  we  do  so  in  a  serene  and  trustful 
spirit,  anxious  for  nothing,  not  seeking  to  extort  a  con- 
cession, but  approaching  with  boldness  the  throne  ot 
grace,  on  which  our  Father  sits.  It  is  thus  that  the 
peace  of  God  shall  rule  our  hearts  and  minds,  for  want 
of  which  the  apostles  were  asked,  Where  is  your  faith  ? 
Comparing  the  naj  ratives,  we  learn  that  Jesus  reassured 
their  hearts  even  before  He  arose,  and  then,  having 
first  silenced  by  His  calmness  the  storm  within  them^ 
He  stood  up  and  rebuked  the  storm  around. 

St.  Augustine  gave  a  false  turn  to  the  application, 
when  he  said,  '^  If  Jesus  were  not  asleep  within  thee, 
thou  wouldst  be  calm  and  at  rest.  But  why  is  He 
asleep  ?  Because  thy  faith  is  asleep,"  etc.  (Sermon  Ixiii.) 
The  sleep  of  Jesus  was  natural  and  right;  and  it 
answers  not  to  our  spiritual  torpor,  but  to  His  apparent 
indifference  and  non-intervention  in  our  time  of  distress. 
And  the  true  lesson  of  the  miracle  is  that  we  should 
trust  Him  Whose  care  fails  not  when  it  seems  to  fail. 
Who  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost,  and  Whom  we 
should  approach  in  the  direst  peril  without  panic.  It 
was  fitly  taught  them  first  when  all  the  powers  of  the 
State  and  the  Church  were  leagued  against  Him,  and 
He  as  a  blind  man  saw  not  and  as  a  dumb  man  opened 
not  His  mouth. 

The  second  storm  should  have  found  them  braver  by 
the  experience  of  the  first ;  but  spiritually  as  well  as 
bodily  they  wfre  farther  removed  from  Christ.  The 
people,  profoundly  moved  by  the  murder  of  the  Baptist, 
wished  to  set  Jesus  on  the  throne,  and  the  disciples  were 
too  ambitious  to  be  allowed  to  be  present  while  He  dis- 
missed the  multitudes.  They  had  to  be  sent  away,  and 
it  was  from  the  distant  hillside  that  Jesus  saw  their 
danger.    Surely  it  is  instructive,  that  neither  the  shades 


I3»  GOSPEL   OF  ST,  MARK. 

of  night,  nor  the  abstracted  fervour  of  His  prayers,  pre- 
vented him  from  seeing  it,  nor  the  stormlashed  waters 
from  bringing  aid.  And  significant  also,  that  the  ex- 
perience of  remoteness,  though  not  sinful,  since  He  had 
sent  them  away,  was  yet  the  result  of  their  own  worldli- 
ness.  It  is  when  we  are  out  of  sympathy  with  Jesua 
that  we  are  most  likely  to  be  alone  in  trouble.  None 
was  in  their  boat  to  save  them,  and  in  heart  also  they 
had  gone  out  from  the  presence  of  their  God.  Therefore 
they  failed  to  trust  in  His  guidance  Who  had  sent 
them  into  the  ship :  they  had  no  sense  of  protection  or 
of  supervision ;  and  it  was  a  terrible  moment  when  a 
form  was  vaguely  seen  to  glide  over  the  waves.  Christ, 
it  would  seem,  would  have  gone  before  and  led  them 
to  the  haven  where  they  would  be.  Or  perhaps  He 
"would  have  passed  by  them,"  as  He  would  after- 
wards have  gone  further  than  Emmaus,  to  elicit  any 
trustful  half-recognition  which  might  call  to  Him  and 
be  rewarded.  But  they  cried  out  for  fear.  And  so  it 
is  continually  with  God  in  His  world,  men  are  terrified 
at  the  presence  of  the  supernatural,  because  they  fail 
to  apprehend  the  abiding  presence  of  the  supernatural 
Christ.  And  yet  there  is  one  point  at  least  in  every 
life,  the  final  moment,  in  which  all  else  must  recede, 
and  the  soul  be  left  alone  with  the  beings  of  another 
world.  Then,  and  in  every  trial,  and  especially  in  all 
trials  which  press  in  upon  us  the  consciousness  of  the 
spiritual  universe,  well  is  it  for  him  who  hears  the 
voice  of  Jesus  saying,  It  is  I,  be  not  afraid. 

For  only  through  Jesus,  only  in  His  person,  has 
that  unknown  universe  ceased  to  be  dreadful  and 
mysterious.  Only  when  He  is  welcomed  does  the 
storm  cease  to  rage  around  us. 

It  was  the  earlier  of  these  miracles  which  first  taught 


Mark  iv.  35-51  ;vi.  47-52]     THE   TWO  STORMS.  139 

the  disciples  that  not  only  were  human  disorders  under 
His  control,  and  gifts  and  blessings  at  His  disposal, 
but  also  the  whole  range  of  nature  was  subject  to  Him, 
and  the  winds  and  the  sea  obey  Him. 

Shall  we  say  that  His  rebuke  addressed  to  these  was 
a  mere  figure  of  speech?  Some  have  inferred  that 
natural  convulsions  are  so  directly  the  work  of  evil 
angels  that  the  words  of  Jesus  were  really  spoken 
to  them.  But  the  plain  assertion  is  that  He  rebuked 
the  winds  and  the  waves,  and  these  would  not  become 
identical  with  Satan  even  upon  the  supposition  that  he 
excites  them.  We  ourselves  continually  personify  the 
course  of  nature,  and  even  complain  of  it,  wantonly 
enough,  and  Scripture  does  not  deny  itself  the  use 
of  ordinary  human  forms  of  speech.  Yet  the  very 
peculiar  word  employed  by  Jesus  cannot  be  without 
significance.  It  is  the  same  with  which  He  had  already 
confronted  the  violence  of  the  demoniac  in  the  syna- 
gogue. Be  muzzled.  At  the  least  it  expresses  stern 
repression,  and  thus  it  reminds  us  that  creation  itself 
is  made  subject  to  vanity,  the  world  deranged  by  sin, 
so  that  all  around  us  requires  readjustment  as  truly  as 
all  within,  and  Christ  shall  at  last  create  a  new  earth 
as  well  as  a  new  heaven. 

Some  pious  people  resign  themselves  much  too 
passively  to  the  mischiefs  of  the  material  universe, 
supposing  that  troubles  which  are  not  of  their  own 
making,  must  needs  be  a  Divine  infliction,  calling  only 
for  submission.  But  God  sends  oppositions  to  be 
conquered  as  well  as  burdens  to  be  borne ;  and  even 
before  the  fall  the  world  had  to  be  subdued.  And 
our  final  mastery  over  the  surrounding  universe  was 
expressed,  when  Jesus  our  Head  rebuked  the  winds, 
and  stilled  the  waves  when  they  arose. 


1^  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK. 


As  they  beheld,  a  new  sense  fell  upon  His  disciples 
of  a  more  awful  presence  than  they  had  yet  discerned. 
They  asked  not  only  what  manner  of  man  is  this  ?  but, 
with  surmises  which  went  out  beyond  the  Hmits  of 
Human  greatness,  Who  then  is  this,  that  even  the  winds 
and  the  sea  obe^  Him  ? 


CHAPTER   ¥. 

THE  DEMONIAC  OF  GAP4JiA, 

**  And  they  came  to  the  other  side  of  the  sea,  into  the  country  of  the 
Gerasenes.  And  when  He  was  come  out  of  the  boat,  straight  way  there 
met  Him  out  of  the  tombs  a  man  with  an  unclean  spirit,  who  had  his 
dwelling  in  the  tombs  :  and  no  man  could  any  more  bind  him,  no,  not 
with  a  chain  ;  because  that  he  had  been  often  bound  with  fetters  and 
chains,  and  the  chains  had  been  rent  a.s.nr^i^tr  by  him,  and  the  fetters 
broken  in  pieces  :  and  no  man  had  strength .-,-)  tame  him.  And  always, 
night  and  day,  in  the  tombs  and  in  the  mountains,  he  war-  crying  out, 
and  cutting  himself  with  stones.  And  whea  he  saw  Jesus  Uom  afar,  he 
ran  and  worshipped  Him  ;  and  crying  out  '^'ith  a  loud  voice,  he  saitli, 
What  have  I  to  do  with  Thee,  Jesus,  Thou  Son  of  the  Most  High  God  ? 
I  adjure  Thee  by  God,  torment  me  not.  Fm  He  said  unto  him.  Come 
forth,  thou  unclean  spirit,  out  of  the  man.  And  He  asked  him.  What 
is  thy  name  ?  And  he  saith  unto  Him,  My  name  is  Legion ;  for  we 
are  many.  And  he  besought  Him  much  that  He  would  not  send  them 
away  out  of  the  country.  Now  there  was  ^H^re  on  the  mountain  side  a 
great  herd  of  swine  feeding.  And  they  besought  Him,  saying,  Send  us 
into  the  swine,  that  we  may  enter  into  them.  And  He  gave  them  leave. 
And  the  unclean  spirits  came  out,  and  entered  into  the  swiT»e  :  and  the 
herd  rushed  down  the  steep  into  the  sea,  in  number  about  two  thousand  ; 
and  they  were  choked  in  the  sea.  And  they  that  fed  them  fled,  and 
told  it  in  the  city,  and  in  the  country.  And  they  came  to  see  what  it 
was  that  had  come  to  pass.  And  they  come  to  Jesus,  and  behold  him 
that  was  possessed  with  devils  sitting,  clothed  and  in  his  right  mind, 
even  him  that  had  the  legion  :  and  they  were  afraid.  And  they  that 
saw  it  declared  unto  them  how  it  befell  him  that  was  possessed  with 
devils,  and  concerning  the  swine.  And  they  began  to  beseech  Him  to 
depart  from  their  borders.  And  as  He  was  entering  into  the  boat,  he 
that  had  been  possessed  with  devils  besought  Him  that  he  miglit  be 
with  Him,     And  He  suffered  him  not,  but  saith  unto  him,  Go  to  thy 


142  GOSPEL  OF  ST.   MARK. 

house  unto  thy  friends,  and  tell  them  how  great  things  the  Lord  hath 
done  for  thee,  and  how  He  had  mercy  on  thee.  And  he  went  his  way, 
and  began  to  publish  in  Decapolis  how  great  things  Jesus  had  done  foi 
him  :  and  all  men  did  marvel." — Mark  v.  1-20  (R.V.). 

FRESH  from  asserting  His  mastery  over  winds 
and  waves,  the  Lord  was  met  by  a  more  terrible 
enemy,  the  rage  of  human  nature  enslaved  and  impelled 
by  the  cioielty  of  hell.  The  place  where  He  landed  was 
a  theatre  not  unfit  for  the  tragedy  which  it  revealed. 
A  mixed  race  was  there,  indifferent  to  religion,  rearing 
great  herds  of  swine,  upon  which  the  law  looked  askance, 
but  the  profits  of  which  they  held  so  dear  that  they 
would  choose  to  banish  a  Divine  ambassador,  and  one 
who  had  released  them  from  an  incessant  peril,  rather 
than  be  deprived  of  these.  Now  it  has  already  been 
shown  that  the  wretches  possessed  by  devils  were  not  of 
necessity  stained  with  special  guilt.  Even  children 
fell  into  this  misery.  But  yet  we  should  expect  to 
find  it  most  rampant  in  places  where  God  was  dis- 
honoured, in  Gerasa  and  in  the  coasts  of  Tyre  and 
Sidon.  And  it  is  so.  All  misery  is  the  consequence 
of  sin,  although  individual  misery  does  not  measure 
individual  guilt.  And  the  places  where  the  shadow  of 
sin  has  fallen  heaviest  are  always  the  haunts  of  direst 
wretchedness. 

The  first  Gospel  mentions  two  demoniacs,  but  one 
was  doubtless  so  pre-eminently  fierce,  and  possibly  so 
zealous  afterward  in  proclaiming  his  deliverance,  that 
only  St.  Matthew  learned  the  existence  of  another, 
upon  whom  also  Satan  had  wrought,  if  not  his  worst, 
enough  to  show  his  hatred,  and  the  woes  he  would  fain 
bring  upon  humanity. 

Among  the  few  terrible  glimpses  given  us  of  the 
mind  of  the  fallen  angels,  one  is  most  significant  and 


Markv.  I-20.]        THE  DEMONIAC   OF  GAD  A  R  A.  143 

sinister.  When  the  unclean  spirit  is  gone  out  of  a  man, 
to  what  haunts  does  he  turn  ?  He  has  no  sympathy 
with  what  is  lovely  or  sublime  :  in  search  of  rest  he 
wanders  through  dry  places,  deserts  of  arid  sand  in 
which  his  misery  may  be  soothed  by  congenial  desola- 
tion. Thus  the  ruins  of  the  mystic  Babylon  become 
an  abode  of  devils.  And  thus  the  unclean  spirit,  when 
he  mastered  this  demoniac,  drove  him  to  a  foul  and 
dreary  abode  among  the  tombs.  One  can  picture  the 
victim  in  some  lucid  moment,  awakening  to  conscious- 
ness only  to  shudder  in  his  dreadful  home,  and  scared 
back  again  into  that  ferocity  which  is  the  child  of 
terror. 

"  Is  it  not  very  like, 
The  horrible  conceit  of  death  and  nigh^ 
Together  with  the  terror  of  the  place 
•  ••••• 

Oh  I  if  I  wake,  shall  I  not  be  distraught. 
Environed  with  all  these  hideous  fears  ?  '* 

Romeo  andjuliet^  ir.  3. 

There  was  a  time  when  he  had  been  under  restraint, 
but  "  now  no  man  could  any  more  bind  him "  even 
with  iron  upon  feet  and  wrists.  The  ferocity  of  his 
cruel  subjugator  turned  his  own  strength  against  himself, 
so  that  night  and  day  his  howling  was  heard,  as  he 
cut  himself  with  stones,  and  his  haunts  in  the  tombs 
and  in  the  mountains  were  as  dangerous  as  the  lair  of 
a  wild  breast,  which  no  man  dared  pass  by.  What 
strange  impulse  drove  him  thence  to  the  feet  of  Jesus  ? 
Very  dreadful  is  the  picture  of  his  conflicting  tendencies  ; 
the  fiend  within  him  struggling  against  something 
still  human  and  attracted  by  the  Divine,  so  that  he  runs 
from  afar,  yet  cries  aloud,  and  worships  yet  disowns 
having  anything  to  do  with  Him ;  and  as  if  the  fiend 


144  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

had  subverted  the  true  personality,  and  become  the  very 
man,  when  ordered  to  come  out  he  adjures  Jesus  to 
torment  him  not. 

And  here  we  observe  the  knowledge  of  Christ's  rank 
possessed  by  the  evil  ones.  Long  before  Peter  won  a 
special  blessing  for  acknowledging  the  Son  of  the 
living  God,  the  demoniac  called  Him  by  the  very  name 
which  flesh  and  blood  did  not  reveal  to  Cephas.  For 
their  chief  had  tested  and  discovered  Him  in  the 
wilderness,  saying  twice  with  dread  surmise,  If  Thou 
be  the  Son  of  God.  It  is  also  noteworthy  that  the 
phrase,  the  most  High  God,  is  the  name  of  Jehovah 
among  the  non-Jewish  races.  It  occurs  in  both  Testa- 
ments m  connection  with  Melchizedek  the  Canaanite. 
It  is  used  throughout  the  Babylonian  proclamations  in 
the  book  of  Daniel.  Micah  puts  it  into  the  lips  of 
Balaam.  And  the  damsel  with  a  spirit  of  divination 
employed  it  in  Philippi.  Except  once,  in  a  Psalm  which 
tells  of  the  return  of  apostate  Israel  to  the  Most  High 
God  (Ixxviii.  35),  the  epithet  is  used  only  in  relation 
with  the  nations  outside  the  covenant.  Its  occurrence 
here  is  probably  a  sign  of  the  pagan  influences  by  which 
Gadara  was  infected,  and  for  which  it  was  plagued.  By 
the  name  of  God  then,  whose  Son  He  loudly  confessed 
that  Jesus  was,  the  fiend  within  the  man  adjures  Him 
to  torment  Him  not.  But  Jesus  had  not  asked  to  be 
acknowledged  ;  He  had  bidden  the  devil  to  come  out 
And  persons  who  substitute  loud  confessions  and 
clamorous  orthodoxies  for  obedience  should  remember 
that  so  did  the  fiend  of  Gadara.  Jesus  replied  by 
asking,  What  is  thy  name  ?  The  question  was  not  an 
idle  one,  but  had  a  healing  tendency.  For  the  man 
was  beside  himself:  it  was  part  of  his  cure  th^l-  l^e  was 
found  "  in  his  right  mind ; "  and  meanwhile  his  very 


Markv.  I-20.]       THE  DEMONIAC   OF  GADARA.  IA5 

consciousness  was  merged  in  that  of  the  fiends  who 
tortured  him,  so  that  his  voice  was  their  voice,  and  they 
returned  a  vaunting  answer  through  His  lips.  Our 
Lord  sought  therefore  both  to  calm  His  excitement  and 
to  remind  him  of  himself,  and  of  what  he  once  had 
been  before  evil  beings  dethroned  his  will.  These 
were  not  the  man,  but  his  enemies  by  whom  he  was 
"  carried  about,"  and  "  led  captive  at  their  will."  And 
it  is  always  sobering  to  think  of ''  Myself,"  the  lonely 
individual,  apart  from  even  those  who  most  influence 
me,  with  a  soul  to  lose  or  save.  With  this  very 
question  the  Church  Catechism  begins  its  work  of 
arousing  and  instructing  the  conscience  of  each  child, 
separating  him  from  his  fellows  in  order  to  lead  him  on 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  individualising  grace  of  God. 

It  may  be  that  the  fiends  within  him  dictated  his 
reply,  or  that  he  himself,  conscious  of  their  tyranny, 
cried  out  in  agony.  We  are  many ;  a  regiment  like  those 
of  conquering  Rome,  drilled  and  armed  to  trample  and 
destroy,  a  legion.  This  answer  distinctly  contravened 
what  Christ  had  just  implied,  that  he  was  one,  an  indi- 
vidual, and  precious  in  his  Maker's  eyes.  But  there 
are  men  and  women  in  every  Christian  land,  whom  it 
might  startle  to  look  within,  and  see  how  fav  their 
individuality  is  oppressed  and  overlaid  by  a  legion  of 
impulses,  appetites,  and  conventionalities,  which  leave 
them  nothing  personal,  nothing  essential  and  charac- 
teristic, nothing  that  deserves  a  name.  The  demons, 
now  conscious  of  the  power  which  calls  them  foitli, 
besought  Him  to  leave  them  a  refuge  in  that  counti  v. 
St.  Luke  throws  light  upon  this  petition,  as  well  a'^ 
their  former  complaint,  when  he  tells  us  they  feared  tt 
be  sent  to  "  the  abyss  "  of  their  final  retribution.  And 
as  we  read  of  men  who  are  haunted  by  a  fearful  looking 

10 


146  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

for  of  judgment  and  a  fierceness  of  fire,  so  they  had  no 
hope  of  escape,  except  until  "the  time."  For  a  little 
respite  they  prayed  to  be  sent  even  into  the  swine,  and 
Jesus  gave  them  leave. 

What  a  difference  there  is  between  the  proud  and 
heroic  spirits  whom  Milton  celebrated,  and  these  malig- 
nant but  miserable  beings,  haunting  the  sepulchres  like 
ghosts,  truculent  and  yet  dastardly,  as  ready  to  suppli- 
cate as  to  rend,  filled  with  dread  of  the  appointed  time 
and  of  the  abyss,  clinging  to  that  outlying  country  as  a 
congenial  haunt,  and  devising  for  themselves  a  last 
asylum  among  the  brutes.  And  yet  they  are  equally 
far  from  the  materialistic  superstitions  of  that  age  and 
place  ;  they  are  not  amenable  to  fumigations  or  exor- 
cisms, and  they  do  not  upset  the  furniture  in  rushing  out. 
Many  questions  have  been  asked  about  the  petition  of 
the  demons  and  our  Lord's  consent.  But  none  of  them 
need  much  distress  the  reverential  enquirer,  who  re- 
members by  what  misty  horizons  all  our  knowledge  is 
enclosed.  Most  absurd  is  the  charge  that  Jesus  acted 
indefensibly  in  destroying  property.  Is  it  then  so  clear 
that  the  owners  did  not  deserve  their  loss  through  the 
nature  of  their  investments  ?  Was  it  merely  as  a  man, 
or  as  the  Son  of  the  living  God,  that  His  consent  was 
felt  to  be  necessary  ?  And  was  it  any  part  of  His 
mission  to  protect  brutes  from  death  ? 

The  loss  endured  was  no  greater  than  when  a  crop 
is  beaten  down  by  hail,  or  a  vineyard  devastated  by 
insects,  and  in  these  cases  an  agency  beyond  the  control 
of  man  is  sent  or  permitted  by  God,  W^ho  was  in  Christ. 

A  far  harder  question  it  is.  How  could  devils  enter  into 
brute  creatures  ?  and  again,  Why  did  they  desire  to  do 
so?  But  the  first  of  these  is  only  a  subdivision  of  the 
vaster  problem,  at  once  inevitable  and  insoluble,  How 


Ifaric  r.  I-20.]     THE  DEMONIAC  OF  GADARA.  147 

does  spirit  in  any  of  its  forms  animate  matter,  or  even 
manipulate  it  ?  We  know  not  by  what  strange  link  a 
thought  contracts  a  sinew,  and  transmutes  itself  into 
words  or  deeds.  And  if  we  believe  the  dread  and 
melancholy  fact  of  the  possession  of  a  child  by  a  fiend, 
what  reason  have  we,  beyond  prejudice,  for  doubting 
the  possession  of  swine?  It  must  be  observed  also, 
that  no  such  possession  is  proved  by  this  narrative 
to  be  a  common  event,  but  the  reverse.  The  notion 
is  a  last  and  wild  expedient  of  despair,  proposing  to 
content  itself  with  the  uttermost  abasement,  if  only  the 
demons  might  still  haunt  the  region  where  they  had 
thriven  so  well.  And  the  consent  of  Jesus  does  not 
commit  Him  to  any  judgment  upon  the  merit  or  the 
possibility  of  the  project.  He  leaves  the  experiment 
to  prove  itself,  exactly  as  when  Peter  would  walk  upon 
the  water ;  and  a  laconic  *'  Go  "  in  this  case  recalls  the 
"Come"  in  that;  an  assent,  without  approval,  to  an 
attempt  which  was  about  to  fail.  Not  in  the  world  of 
brutes  could  they  find  shelter  from  the  banishment 
they  dreaded ;  for  the  whole  herd,  frantic  and  un- 
governed,  rushed  headlong  into  the  sea  and  was 
destroyed.  The  second  victory  of  the  series  was  thus 
completed.  Jesus  was  Master  over  the  evil  spirits 
which  afflict  humanity,  as  well  as  over  the  fierceness 
of  the  elements  which  rise  against  ui» 


148  GOSFEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 


THE    MEN   OF   GADARA. 

"And  they  that  fed  them  fled,  and  told  it  in  the  city,  and  in  the 
country.  And  they  came  to  see  what  it  was  that  had  come  to  pass, 
And  they  come  to  Jesus,  and  behold  him  that  was  possessed  with  devils 
sitting,  clothed  and  in  his  right  mind,  even  him  that  had  the  legion  : 
and  they  were  afraid.  And  they  that  saw  it  declared  unto  them  how 
it  befell  him  that  was  possessed  with  devils,  and  concerning  the  swine. 
And  they  began  to  beseech  him  to  depart  from  their  borders.  And  as 
He  was  entering  into  the  boat,  he  that  had  been  possessed  with  devils 
besought  Him  that  he  might  be  with  Him.  And  He  suffered  him  not, 
but  saith  unto  him,  Go  to  thy  house  unto  thy  friends,  and  tell  theni 
how  great  things  the  Lord  hath  done  for  thee,  and  how  He  had  mercy 
on  thee.  And  he  went  his  way,  and  began  to  publish  in  Decapolis  how 
great  things  Jesus  had  done  for  him  :  and  all  men  did  marvel." — 
Mark  v.  14-20  (R.V.). 

The  expulsion  of  the  demons  from  the  possessed,  their 
entrance  into  the  herd,  and  the  destruction  of  the  two 
thousand  swine,  were  virtually  one  transaction,  and 
must  have  impressed  the  swineherds  in  its  totalit3^ 
They  saw  on  the  one  hand  the  restoration  of  a  danger- 
ous and  raging  madman,  known  to  be  actuated  by  evil 
spirits,  the  removal  of  a  standing  peril  which  had 
already  made  one  tract  of  country  impassable,  and  (if 
they  considered  such  a  thing  at  all)  the  calming  of  a 
human  soul,  and  its  advent  within  the  reach  of  all 
sacred  influences.  On  the  other  side  what  was  there  ? 
The  loss  of  two  thousand  swine ;  and  the  consciousness 
that  the  kingdom  of  God  was  come  nigh  unto  them. 
This  was  always  an  alarming  discovery.  Isaiah  said, 
Woe  is  me  !  when  his  eyes  beheld  God  high  and  lifted 
up.  And  Peter  said,  Depart  from  me,  when  he  learned 
by  the  miraculous  draught  of  fish  that  the  Lord  was 
there.  But  Isaiah's  concern  was  because  he  was  a 
man  of  unclean  lips,  and  Peter's  was  because  he  was 
a  sinful  man.     Their  alarm  was  that  of  an  awakened 


Mark  V.  14-20.]         THE  MEN  OF  GADARA.  149 

conscience,  and  therefore  they  became  the  heralds  of 
Him  Whom  they  feared.  But  these  men  were  simply 
scared  at  what  they  instinctively  felt  to  be  dangerous ; 
and  so  they  took  refuge  in  a  crowd,  that  frequent  resort 
of  the  frivolous  and  conscience-stricken,  and  told  in 
the  city  what  they  had  seen.  And  when  the  inhabit- 
ants came  forth,  a  sight  met  them  which  might  have 
won  the  sternest,  the  man  sitting,  clothed  (a  nice 
coincidence,  since  St.  Mark  had  not  mentioned  that  he 
"  ware  no  clothes,")  and  in  his  right  mind,  even  him 
that  had  the  ler^icn,  as  the  narrative  emphatically  adds. 
And  doubtless  the  much  debated  incident  of  the  swine 
had  greatly  helped  to  reassure  this  afflicted  soul ;  the 
demons  were  palpably  gone,  visibly  enough  they  were 
overmastered.  But  the  citizens,  like  the  swineherds, 
v/ere  merely  terrified,  neither  grateful  nor  sympathetic ; 
uninspired  with  hope  of  pure  teaching,  of  rescue  from 
other  influences  of  the  evil  one,  or  of  any  unearthly 
kingdom.  Their  formidable  visitant  was  one  to  treat 
with  all  respect,  but  to  remove  with  all  speed,  "  and 
they  began  to  beseech  Him  to  depart  from  their 
borders."  They  began,  for  it  did  not  require  long 
entreaty  ;  the  gospel  which  was  free  to  all  was  not  to 
be  forced  upon  any.  But  how  much  did  they  blindly 
fling  away,  who  refused  the  presence  of  the  meek 
and  lowly  Giver  of  rest  unto  souls ;  and  chose  to 
be  denied,  as  strangers  whom  He  never  knew,  in  the 
day  when  every  eye  shall  see  Him. 

With  how  sad  a  heart  must  Jesus  have  turned  away. 
Yet  one  soul  at  least  was  won,  for  as  He  was  entering 
into  the  boat,  the  man  who  owed  all  to  Him  prayed 
Him  that  he  might  be  with  Him.  Why  was  the 
prayer  refused?  Doubtless  it  sprang  chiefly  from 
gratitude  and  love,  thinking  it  hard  to  lose  so  soon  the 


ISO  GOSPEL   OF  ST   MARK. 

wondrous  benefactor,  the  Man  at  whose  feet  he  had 
sat  down,  Who  alone  had  looked  with  pitiful  and 
helpful  eyes  on  one  whom  others  only  sought  to 
**  tame."  Such  feelings  are  admirable,  but  they  must 
be  disciplined  so  as  to  seek,  not  their  own  indulgence, 
but  their  Master's  real  service.  Now  a  reclaimed  de- 
moniac would  have  been  a  suspected  companion  for 
One  who  was  accused  of  league  with  the  Prince  of  the 
devils.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  he  had 
any  fitness  whatever  to  enter  the  immediate  circle  of 
our  Lord's  intimate  disciples.  His  special  testimony 
would  lose  all  its  force  when  he  left  the  district  where 
he  was  known ;  but  there,  on  the  contrary,  the  miracle 
could  not  fail  to  be  impressive,  as  its  extent  and  per- 
manence were  seen.  This  man  was  perhaps  the  only 
missionary  who  could  reckon  upon  a  hearing  from 
those  who  banished  Jesus  from  their  coasts.  And 
Christ's  loving  and  unresentful  heart  would  give  this 
testimony  to  them  in  its  fulness.  It  should  begin  at 
his  own  house  and  among  his  friends,  who  would 
surely  Hsten.  They  should  be  told  how  great  things 
the  Lord  had  done  for  him,  and  Jesus  expressly  added, 
how  He  had  mercy  upon  thee,  that  so  they  might  learn 
their  mistake,  who  feared  and  shrank  from  such  a  kindly 
visitant.  Here  is  a  less^  n  for  these  modern  days,  when 
the  conversion  of  any  noted  profligate  is  sure  to  be 
followed  by  attempts  to  push  him  into  a  vagrant 
publicity,  not  only  full  of  peril  in  itself,  but  also  re- 
moving him  from  the  familiar  sphere  in  which  his  con- 
sistent life  would  be  more  convincing  than  all  sermons, 
and  where  no  suspicion  of  self-interest  could  overcloud 
the  brightness  of  his  testimony. 

Possibly  there  was  yet  another  reason  for  leaving 
him  in  his  home.     He  may  have  desired  to  remain  close 


Mark  V.  21-43.]  WITH  JAIR  US.  151 

to  Jesus,  lest,  when  the  Saviour  was  absent,  the  evil 
spirits  should  resume  their  sway.  In  that  case  it 
would  be  necessary  to  exercise  his  faith  and  convince 
him  that  the  words  of  Jesus  were  far-reaching  and 
effectual,  even  when  He  was  Himself  remote.  If  so, 
he  learned  the  lesson  well,  and  became  an  evangelist 
through  all  the  region  of  Decapolis.  And  where  all 
did  marvel,  we  may  hope  that  some  were  won.  What 
a  revelation  of  mastery  over  the  darkest  and  most 
dreadful  forces  of  evil,  and  of  respect  for  the  human 
will  (which  Jesus  never  once  coerced  by  miracle,  even 
when  it  rejected  Him),  what  unwearied  care  for  the 
rebellious,  and  what  a  sense  of  sacredness  in  lowly 
duties,  better  for  the  demoniac  than  the  physical  near- 
ness of  his  Lord,  are  combined  in  this  astonishing 
narrative,  which  to  invent  in  the  second  century  would 
itself  have  required  miraculous  powers. 

WITH  /AIR  us, 

"  And  when  Jesus  had  crossed  over  again  in  the  boat  unto  the  other 
side,  a  great  multitude  was  gathered  unto  Him  :  and  He  was  by  the 
sea.  And  there  cometh  one  of  the  rulers  of  the  synagogue,  J  aims  by 
name  ;  and  seeing  Him,  he  falleth  at  His  feet,  and  beseecheth  Him 
much,  saying,  My  little  daughter  is  at  the  point  of  death  :  /  p^ay  Thee 
that  Thou  come  and  lay  Thy  hands  on  her,  that  she  may  be  made 
whole,  and  live.  And  He  went  with  him ;  and  a  great  multitude 
followed  Him,  and  they  thronged  Him.  And  a  woman,  which  had  an 
issue  of  blood  twelve  years,  and  had  suffered  many  things  of  many 
physicians,  and  had  spent  all  that  she  had,  and  was  nothing  bettered, 
but  rather  grew  worse,  having  heard  the  things  concerning  Jesus,  came 
in  the  crowd  behind,  and  touched  His  garment.  For  she  said.  If  I 
touch  but  His  garments,  I  shall  be  made  whole.  And  straightway  the 
fountain  of  her  blood  was  dried  up ;  and  she  felt  in  her  body  that  she 
was  healed  of  her  plague.  And  straightway  Jesus,  perceiving  in  Him- 
self that  the  power  proceeding  from  Him  had  gone  foith,  turned  Him 
about  in  the  crowd,  and  said,  Who  touched  My  garments  ?  And  His 
(disciples  said  unto  Him,  Thou  seest  the  multitude  thronging  Thec^ 


152  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK. 

and  sayest  Thou,  Who  touched  Me  ?  And  He  looked  round  about  to 
see  her  that  had  done  this  thing.  But  the  woman  fearing  and  trembling, 
knowing  w^hat  had  been  done  to  her,  came  and  fell  down  before  Him, 
and  told  Him  all  the  truth.  And  He  said  unto  her,  Daughter,  thy 
faith  hath  made  thee  whole  ;  go  in  peace,  and  be  whole  of  thy  plague. 
While  He  yet  spake,  they  come  from  the  ruler  of  'he  synr^cgue's 
house,  saying,  Thy  daughter  is  dead  :  why  troublest  uiou  the  Master 
any  further  ?  But  Jesus  not  heeding  the  word  spoken,  saith  unto  the 
ruler  of  the  synagogue,  Fear  not,  only  believe.  And  He  suffered  no 
man  to  follow  with  Him,  save  Peter,  and  James,  and  John  the  brother 
of  James.  And  they  come  to  the  house  of  the  ruler  of  the  synagogue  ; 
and  He  beholdeth  a  tumult,  and  many  weeping  and  wailing  greatly. 
And  when  He  was  entered  in.  He  saith  unto  them,  Why  make  ye  a 
tumult,  and  weep?  the  child  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth.  And  they 
kiughed  Him  to  scorn.  But  He,  having  put  them  all  forth,  taketh  the 
father  of  the  child  and  her  mother  and  them  that  were  with  Him,  and 
goeth  in  where  the  child  was.  And  taking  the  child  by  the  hand,  He 
saith  unto  her,  Talitha  cumi ;  which  is,  being  interpreted,  Damsel,  I 
say  unto  thee,  Arise.  And  straightway  the  damsel  rose  up,  and  walked; 
for  she  was  twelve  years  old.  And  they  were  amazed  straightway  with 
a  great  amazement.  And  He  charged  them  much  that  no  man  should 
know  this ;  ami  He  commanded  that  something  should  be  given  her  to 
eat."— Mark  v.  21-43  (R.V.). 


Repulsed  from  Decapolis,  but  consoled  by  the  rescue 
and  zeal  of  the  demoniac,  Jesus  returned  to  the  western 
shore,  and  a  great  multitude  assembled.  The  other 
boats  which  were  with  Him  had  doubtless  spread  the 
tidings  of  the  preternatural  calm  which  rescued  them 
from  deadly  peril,  and  it  may  be  that  news  of  the  event 
of  Gadara  arrived  almost  as  soon  as  He  Whom  they 
celebrated.  We  have  seen  that  St.  Mark  aims  at  bring- 
ing the  four  great  miracles  of  this  period  into  the  closest 
sequence.  And  so  he  passes  over  a  certain  brief  period 
with  the  words  "  He  was  by  the  sea."  But  in  fact 
Jesus  was  reasoning  with  the  Pharisees,  and  with  the 
disciples  of  John,  who  had  assailed  Him  and  His 
followers,  when  one  of  their  natural  leaders  threw  him- 
self at  His  feet. 


Mark  V.  2I.43-]  WITH  JAIRUS.  153 

The  contrast  is  sharp  enough,  as  He  rises  from  a 
feast  to  go  to  the  house  of  mourning,  from  eating  with 
publicans  and  sinners  to  accompany  a  ruler  of  the 
synagogue.  These  unexpected  calls,  these  sudden 
alternations  all  found  Him  equally  ready  to  bear  the 
same  noble  part,  in  the  most  dissimilar  scenes,  and  in 
treating  temperaments  the  most  unlike.  But  the  con- 
trast should  also  be  observed  between  those  harsh  and 
hostile  critics  whc  hated  Him  in  the  interests  of  dogma 
and  of  ceremonial,  and  Jairus,  v/hose  views  were  theirs, 
but  whose  heart  was  softened  by  trouble.  The  danger 
of  his  child  was  what  drove  him,  perhaps  reluctantly 
enough,  to  beseech  Jesus  much.  And  nothing  could 
be  more  touching  than  his  prayer  for  his  *'  little 
daughter,"  its  sequence  broken  as  if  with  a  sob  ;  wist- 
fully pictorial  as  to  the  process,  "  that  Thou  come  and 
lay  Thy  hands  upon  her,"  and  dilating  wistfully  too 
upon  the  effect,  "  that  she  may  be  made  whole  and 
live."  If  a  miracle  were  not  in  question,  the  dullest 
critic  in  Europe  would  confess  that  this  exquisite  sup- 
plication was  not  composed  by  an  evangelist,  but  a 
father.  And  he  would  understand  also  why  the  very 
words  in  their  native  dialect  were  not  forgotten,  which 
men  had  heard  awake  the  dead. 

As  Jesus  went  with  him,  a  great  multitude  followed 
Him,  and  they  thronged  Him.  It  is  quite  evident  that 
Jesus  did  not  love  these  gatherings  of  the  idly  curious. 
Partly  from  such  movements  He  had  withdrawn  Him- 
self to  Gadara ;  and  partly  to  avoid  exciting  them  He 
strove  to  keep  many  of  His  miracles  a  secret.  Sensa- 
tionalism is  neither  grace  nor  a  means  of  grace.  And 
it  must  be  considered  that  the  perfect  Man,  as  far  from 
mental  apathy  or  physical  insensibility  as  from  morbid 
fastidiousness,  would  find  much  to  shrink  away  from  in 


154  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK, 

the  pressure  of  a  city  crowd.  The  contact  of  inferior 
organizations,  selfishness  driving  back  the  weak  and 
gentle,  vulgar  scrutiny  and  audible  comment,  and  the 
desire  for  some  miracle  as  an  idle  show,  which  He  would 
only  work  because  His  gentle  heart  was  full  of  pity, 
all  these  would  be  utterly  distressing  to  Him  who  was 

"  The  first  true  gentleman  that  ever  breathed," 

as  well  as  the  revelation  of  God  in  flesh.  It  is  therefore 
noteworthy  that  we  have  many  examples  of  His  grace 
and  goodness  amid  such  trying  scenes,  as  when  He 
spoke  to  Zacchaeus,  and  called  Bartimseus  to  Him  to  be 
healed.  Jesus  could  be  wrathful  but  He  was  never 
irritated.  Of  these  examples  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
is  here  recorded,  for  as  He  went  with  Jairus,  amidst  the 
rude  and  violent  thronging  of  the  crowds,  moving  alone 
(as  men  often  are  in  sympathy  and  in  heart  alone  amid 
seething  thoroughfares),  He  suddenly  became  aware  of 
a  touch,  the  timid  and  stealthy  touch  of  a  broken-hearted 
woman,  pale  and  wasted  wit^i  disease,  but  borne  through 
the  crowd  by  the  last  effort  of  despair  and  the  first 
energy  of  a  newborn  hope,  i^he  ought  not  to  have  come 
thither,  since  her  touch  sprt  ad  ceremonial  uncleanness 
far  and  wide.  Nor  ought  she  to  have  stolen  a  blessing 
instead  of  praying  for  it.  A  ad  if  we  seek  to  blame  her 
still  further,  we  may  condemn  the  superstitious  notion 
that  Christ's  gifts  of  healinj<  were  not  conscious  and 
loving  actions,  but  a  mere  contagion  of  health,  by  which 
one  might  profit  unfelt  and  undiscovered.  It  is  urged 
indeed  that  hers  was  not  a  faith  thus  clouded,  but  so 
Hxajestic  as  to  believe  that  Christ  would  know  and  re- 
spond to  the  silent  hint  of  a  gentle  touch.  And  is  it 
supposed  that  Jesus  would  have  dragged  into  publicity 
such  a  perfect  hly  of  the  vale  as  this  ?  and  what  means 


Markr ,  21-43  }  HIJfJ  JAIKUS.  155 

her  trembling  confession,  and  the  discovery  that  she 
could  not  be  hid?  But  when  our  keener  intellects  have 
criticised  her  errors,  and  our  clearer  ethics  have  frowned 
upon  her  misconduct,  one  fact  remains.  She  is  the 
only  woman  upon  whom  Jesus  is  recorded  to  have 
bestowed  any  epithet  but  a  formal  one.  Her  misery 
and  her  faith  drew  from  Kis  guarded  lips,  the  tender 
and  yet  lofty  word  Daughter. 

So  much  better  is  the  faith  which  seeks  for  blessing, 
however  erroneous  be  its  means,  than  the  heartless 
propriety  which  criticises  with  most  dispassionate 
clearness,  chiefly  because  it  really  seeks  nothing  for 
itself  at  all.  Such  faith  is  always  an  appeal,  and  is 
responded  to,  not  as  she  supposed,  mechanically,  un- 
consciously, nor,  of  course,  by  the  opus  operatum  of  a 
garment  touched  (or  of  a  sacrament  formally  received), 
but  by  the  going  forth  of  power  from  a  conscious 
Giver,  in  response  to  the  need  which  has  approached 
His  fulness.  He  knew  her  secret  and  fearful  approach 
to  Him,  as  He  knew  the  guileless  heart  of  Nathanael, 
whom  He  marked  beneath  the  fig-tree.  And  He  dealt 
with  her  very  gently.  Doubtless  there  are  many  such 
concealed  woes,  secret,  untold  miseries  which  eat  deep 
into  gentle  hearts,  and  are  never  spoken,  and  cannot, 
like  Bartimaeus,  cry  aloud  for  public  pity.  For  these 
also  there  is  balm  in  Gilead,  and  if  the  Lord  requires 
them  to  confess  Him  publicly.  He  will  first  give  them 
due  strength  to  do  so.  This  enfeebled  and  emaciated 
woman  was  allowed  to  feel  in  her  body  that  she  was 
healed  of  her  plague,  before  she  was  called  upon  for 
her  confession.  Jesus  asked,  Who  touched  my  clothes? 
It  was  one  thing  to  press  Him,  driven  forward  by  the 
multitude  around,  as  circumstances  impel  so  many  to 
become  churchgoers,  readers  of  Scripture,  interested  in 


156  GOSPEL   OF  ST,  MARK. 

sacred  questions  and  controversies  until  they  are  borne 
as  by  physical  propulsion  into  the  closest  contact  with 
our  Lord,  but  not  drawn  thither  by  any  personal  crav- 
ing or  sense  of  want,  nor  expecting  any  blessed  reaction 
of  "  the  power  proceeding  from  Him."  It  was  another 
thing  to  reach  out  a  timid  hand  and  touch  appeaHngly 
even  that  tasselled  fringe  of  His  garment  which  had 
a  religious  significance,  whence  perhaps  she  drew  a 
semi-superstitious  hope.  In  the  face  of  this  incident, 
can  any  orthodoxy  forbid  us  to  believe  that  the  grace 
of  Christ  extends,  now  as  of  yore,  to  many  a  super- 
stitious and  erring  approach  by  which  souls  reach  after 
Christ  ? 

The  disciples  wondered  at  His  question :  they  knew 
not  that  "  the  flesh  presses  but  faith  touches  ; "  but  as 
He  continued  to  look  around  and  seek  her  that  had 
done  this  thing,  she  fell  down  and  told  Him  all  the 
truth.  Fearing  and  trembHng  she  spoke,  for  indeed 
she  had  been  presumptuous,  and  ventured  v/ithout 
permission.  But  the  chief  thing  was  that  she  had 
ventured,  and  so  He  graciously  replied,  Daughter,  thy 
faith  hath  made  thee  whole,  go  in  peace  and  be  whole 
of  thy  plague.  Thus  she  received  more  than  she  had 
asked  or  thought ;  not  only  healing  for  the  body,  but 
also  a  victory  over  that  self-eflfacing,  fearful,  half  mor- 
bid diffidence,  which  long  and  weakening  disease  entails. 
Thus  also,  instead  of  a  secret  cure,  she  was  given  the 
open  benediction  of  her  Lord,  and  such  confirmation  in 
her  privilege  as  many  more  would  enjoy  if  only  with 
their  mouth  confession  were  made  unto  salvation. 

While  He  yet  spoke,  and  the  heart  of  Jairus  was 
divided  between  joy  at  a  new  evidence  of  the  power 
of  Christ,  and  impatience  at  every  moment  of  delay, 
not  knowing  that  his  Benefactor  was  the  Lord  of  time 


MarK  r.  21-43.]  WITH  JAIRUS,  157 

itself,  the  fatal  message  camC;  tinged  with  some  little 
irony  as  it  asked,  Why  troublest  thou  the  Teacher 
any  more  ?  It  is  quite  certain  that  Jesus  had  before 
now  raised  the  dead,  but  no  miracle  of  the  kind  had 
acquired  such  prominence  as  afterwards  to  claim  a 
place  in  the  Gospel  narratives. 

One  is  led  to  suspect  that  the  care  of  Jesus  had  pre- 
vailed, and  they  had  not  been  widely  published.  To 
those  who  brought  this  message,  perhaps  no  such  case 
had  travelled,  certainly  none  had  gained  their  cre- 
dence. It  was  in  their  eyes  a  thing  incredible  that  He 
should  raise  the  dead,  and  indeed  there  is  a  wide 
difference  between  every  other  miracle  and  this.  We 
struggle  against  all  else,  but  when  death  comes  we  feel 
that  all  is  over  except  to  bury  out  of  our  sight  what 
once  was  beautiful  and  dear.  Death  is  destiny  made 
visible ;  it  is  the  irrevocable.  Who  shall  unsay  the 
words  of  a  bleeding  heart,  I  shall  go  to  him  but  he 
shall  not  return  to  me  ?  But  Christ  came  to  destroy 
him  that  had  the  power  of  death.  Even  now,  through 
Him,  we  are  partakers  of  a  more  intense  and  deeper 
life,  and  have  not  only  the  hope  but  the  beginning  of 
immortality.  And  it  was  the  natural  seal  upon  His 
lofty  mission,  that  He  should  publicly  raise  up  the  dead. 
For  so  great  a  task,  shall  we  say  that  Jesus  now 
gathers  all  His  energies  ?  That  would  be  woefully  to 
misread  the  story ;  for  a  grand  simplicity,  the  easy 
bearing  of  unstrained  and  amply  adequate  resources,  is 
common  to  all  the  narratives  of  life  brought  back.  We 
shall  hereafter  see  good  reason  why  Jesus  employed 
means  for  other  miracles,  and  even  advanced  by  stages 
in  the  work.  But  lest  we  should  suppose  that  effort 
was  necessary,  and  His  power  but  just  sufficed  to  over- 
come the  resistance,  none  of  these  supreme  miracles 


158  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  MARK. 

is  wrought  with  the  slightest  effort.  Prophets  and 
apostles  may  need  to  stretch  themselves  upon  the  bed  or 
to  embrace  the  corpse ;  Jesus,  in  His  own  noble  phrase, 
awakes  it  out  of  sleep.  A  wonderful  ease  and  quiet- 
ness pervade  the  narratives,  expressing  exactly  the 
serene  bearing  of  the  Lord  of  the  dead  and  of  the 
living.  There  is  no  holding  back,  no  toying  with  the 
sorrow  of  the  bereaved,  such  as  even  Euripides,  the 
tenderest  of  the  Greeks,  ascribed  to  the  demigod  who 
tore  from  the  grip  of  death  the  heroic  wife  of  Admetus. 
Hercules  plays  with  the  husband's  sorrow,  suggests 
the  consolation  of  a  new  bridal,  and  extorts  the  angry 
cry,  *'  Silence,  what  have  you  said  ?  I  would  not  have 
believed  it  of  you."  But  what  is  natural  to  a  hero, 
flushed  with  victory  and  the  sense  of  patronage,  would 
have  ill  become  the  absolute  self-possession  and  gentle 
grace  of  Jesus.  In  every  case,  therefore.  He  is  full  of 
encouragement  and  sympathy,  even  before  His  work  is 
wrought.  To  the  widow  of  Nain  He  says,  "  Weep  not." 
He  tells  the  sister  of  Lazarus,  "  If  thou  wilt  believe, 
thou  shalt  see  the  salvation  of  God."  And  when  these 
disastrous  tidings  shake  all  the  faith  of  Jairus,  Jesus 
loses  not  a  moment  in  reassuring  Him  :  "  Fear  not, 
only  believe,"  He  says,  not  heeding  the  word  spoken ; 
that  is  to  say.  Himself  unagitated  and  serene.* 

In  every  case  some  co-operation  was  expected  from  the 
bystanders.  The  bearers  of  the  widow's  son  halted,  ex- 
pectant, when  this  majestic  and  tender  Wayfarer  touched 
the  bier.  The  friends  of  Lazarus  rolled  away  the  stone 
from  the  sepulchre.  But  the  professional  mourners  in 
the  house  of  Jairus  were  callous  and  insensible,  and 


•  Unless  indeed  the  meaning  be  rather,  "  ner  hearing  the  word,* 
which  is  not  its  force  in  the  New  Testament  (Matt  xriii.  17,  twice). 


Mwk  r.  2L  43.]  H'/TJI  JAIRUS.  159 

when  He  interrupted  their  clamoreus  wailing,  with  the 
question,  Why  make  ye  tumult  and  weep  ?  they  laughed 
Him  to  scorn ;  a  fit  expression  of  the  world's  purblind 
incredulity,  its  reliance  upon  ordinary  "  experience  "  to 
disprove  all  possibilities  of  the  extraordinary  and  Divine, 
and  its  heartless  transition  from  conventional  sorrow 
to  ghastly  laughter,  mocking  in  the  presence  of  death 
— which  is,  in  its  view,  so  desperate — the  last  hope  of 
humanity.  Laughter  is  not  the  fitting  mood  in  which 
to  contradict  the  Christian  hope,  that  our  lost  ones  are 
not  dead,  but  sleep.  The  new  and  strange  hope  for 
humanity  which  Jesus  thus  asserted,  He  went  on  to 
prove,  but  not  for  them.  Exerting  that  moral  ascen- 
dency, which  sufficed  Him  twice  to  cleanse  the  Temple, 
He  put  them  all  forth,  as  already  He  had  shut  out  the 
crowd,  and  all  His  disciples  but  '^  the  elect  of  His  elec- 
tion," the  three  who  now  first  obtain  a  special  privilege. 
The  scene  was  one  of  surpassing  solemnity  and  awe ; 
but  not  more  so  than  that  of  Nain,  or  by  the  tomb  of 
Lazarus.  Why  then  were  not  only  the  idly  curious 
and  the  scornful,  but  nine  of  His  chosen  ones  excluded  ? 
Surely  we  may  believe,  for  the  sake  of  the  little  girl, 
whose  tender  grace  of  unconscious  maidenhood  should 
not,  in  its  hour  of  reawakened  vitality,  be  the  centre 
of  a  gazing  circle.  He  kept  with  Him  the  deeply 
reverential  and  the  loving,  the  ripest  apostles  and  the 
parents  of  the  child,  since  love  and  reverence  are  ever 
the  conditions  of  real  insight.  And  then,  first,  was 
exhibited  the  gentle  and  profound  regard  of  Christ  for 
children.  He  did  not  arouse  her,  as  others,  with  a  call 
only,  but  took  her  by  the  hand,  while  He  spoke  to  her 
those  Aramaic  words,  so  marvellous  in  their  effect, 
which  St.  Peter  did  not  fail  to  repeat  to  St.  Mark  as  he 
had  heard  them,  Talitha  cumi ;  Damsel,  I  say  unto  thee, 


l6o  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

Arise.  They  have  an  added  sweetness  when  we  reflect 
that  the  former  word,  though  appUed  to  a  very  young 
child,  is  in  its  root  a  variation  of  the  word  for  a  Uttle 
lamb.  How  exquisite  from  the  lips  of  the  Good  Shep- 
herd, Who  gave  His  life  for  the  sheep.  How  strange 
to  be  thus  awakened  from  the  mysterious  sleep,  and  to 
gaze  with  a  child's  fresh  eyes  into  the  loving  eyes  of 
Jesus.  Let  us  seek  to  realise  such  positions,  to  com- 
prehend the  marvellous  heart  which  they  reveal  to  us, 
and  we  shall  derive  more  love  and  trust  from  the  effort 
than  from  all  such  doctrinal  inference  and  allegorizing 
as  would  dry  up,  into  a  hortus  siccus,  the  sweetest  blooms 
of  the  sweetest  story  ever  told. 

So  shall  we  understand  what  happened  next  in  all 
three  cases.  Something  preternatural  and  therefore 
dreadful,  appeared  to  hang  about  the  lives  so  won- 
drously  restored.  The  widow  of  Nain  did  not  dare  to 
embrace  her  son  until  Christ  ''gave  him  to  his  mother." 
The  bystanders  did  not  touch  Lazarus,  bound  hand  and 
foot,  until  Jesus  bade  them  "  loose  him  and  let  him  go." 
And  the  five  who  stood  about  this  child's  bed,  amazed 
straightway  with  a  great  amazement,  had  to  be  reminded 
that  being  now  in  perfect  health,  after  an  illness  which 
left  her  system  wholly  unsupplied,  something  should  be 
given  her  to  eat.  This  is  the  point  at  which  Euripides 
could  find  nothing  fitter  for  Hercules  to  utter  than  the 
awkward  boast,  "  Thou  wilt  some  day  say  that  the 
son  of  Jove  was  a  capital  guest  to  entertain."  What  a 
contrast.  For  Jesus  was  utterly  unflushed,  undazzled, 
apparently  unconscious  of  anything  to  disturb  His 
composure.  And  so  far  was  He  from  the  unhappy 
modern  notion,  that  every  act  of  grace  must  be  pro- 
claimed on  the  housetop,  and  every  recipient  of  grace 
however  young,  however  unmatured,  paraded  and  ex- 


Mark  V.  21-43-1  WITH  JAJRU&.  i6l 


hibited,  that  He  charged  them  much  that  no  man  should 
know  this. 

The  story  throughout  is  graphic  and  full  of  character; 
every  touch,  every  word  reveals  the  Divine  Man ;  and 
only  reluctance  to  believe  a  miracle  prevents  it  from 
proving  itself  to  every  candid  mind.  Whether  it  be  ac- 
cepted or  rejected,  it  is  itself  miraculous.  It  could  not 
have  grown  up  in  the  soil  which  generated  the  early 
myths  and  legends,  by  the  working  of  the  ordinary  laws 
of  mind.  It  is  beyond  their  power  to  invent  or  to 
dream,  supernatural  in  the  strictest  sense. 

This  miracle  completes  the  cycle.  Nature,  distracted 
by  the  Fall,  has  revolted  against  Him  in  vain.  Satan, 
intrenched  in  his  last  stronghold,  has  resisted,  and 
humbled  himself  to  entreaties  and  to  desperate  contriv- 
ances, in  vain.  Secret  and  unspoken  woes,  and  silent 
germs  of  belief,  have  hidden  from  Him  in  vain.  Death 
itself  has  closed  its  bony  fingers  upon  its  prey,  in  vain. 
Nothing  can  resist  the  power  and  love,  which  are 
enlisted  on  behalf  of  all  who  put  their  trust  la  Jesus. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

REJECTED  IN  HIS  OWN  COUNTRY, 

••  And  He  went  out  from  thence ;  and  He  cometh  into  His  owt 
country ;  and  His  disciples  follow  Him.** — Mark  vi.  i-6  (R.V.). 

WE  have  seen  how  St.  Mark,  to  bring  out  more 
vividly  the  connection  between  four  mighty 
signs,  their  ideal  completeness  as  a  whole,  and  that 
mastery  over  nature  and  the  spiritual  world  which  they 
reveal,  grouped  them  resolutely  together,  excluding 
even  significant  incidents  which  would  break  in  upon 
their  sequence.  Bearing  this  in  mind,  how  profoundly 
instructive  it  is  that  our  Evangelist  shows  us  this 
Master  over  storm  and  demons,  over  too-silent  disease, 
and  over  death,  too  clamorously  bewailed,  in  the  next 
place  teaching  His  own  countrymen  in  vain,  and  an 
offence  to  them.  How  startling  to  read,  at  this  juncture, 
when  legend  would  surely  have  thrown  all  men  pros- 
trate at  his  feet,  of  His  homely  family  and  His  trade, 
and  how  He  Who  rebuked  the  storm  '*  could  there  do 
no  mighty  work." 

First  of  all,  it  is  touching  to  see  Jesus  turning  once 
more  to  "  His  own  country,"  just  at  this  crisis.  They 
had  rejected  Him  in  a  frenzy  of  rage,  at  the  outset  of 
His  ministry.  And  He  had  very  lately  repulsed  the 
rude  attempt  of  His  immediate  relatives  to  interrupt 
His  mission.  But  now  His  heart  leads  Him  thither, 
once  again  to  appeal  to  the  companions  of  His  youth. 


Mark  n.  1-6.]    REJECTED  IN  HIS  OWN  COUNTRY         163 

with  the  halo  of  His  recent  and  surpassing  works  upon 
His  forehead.  He  does  not  abruptly  interrupt  their 
vocations,  but  waits  as  before  for  the  Sabbath,  and 
the  hushed  assembly  in  the  sacred  place.  And  as  He 
teaches  in  the  synagogue,  they  are  conscious  of  His 
power.  Whence  could  He  have  these  things  ?  His 
wisdom  was  an  equal  wonder  with  His  mighty  works, 
of  the  reality  of  which  they  could  not  doubt.  And  what 
excuse  then  had  they  for  listening  to  His  wisdom  in 
vain  ?  But  they  went  on  to  ask.  Is  not  this  the  car- 
penter ?  the  Son  of  Mary  ?  they  knew  His  brothers, 
and  His  si>ters  were  living  among  them.  And  they 
were  offen<(i  d  in  Him,  naturally  enough.  It  is  hard  to 
believe  in  the  supremacy  of  one,  whom  circumstances 
marked  a*  our  equal,  and  to  admit  the  chieftainship  of 
one  who  started  side  by  side  with  us.  In  Palestine 
it  was  not  disgraceful  to  be  a  tradesman,  but  yet  they 
could  fairly  claim  equality  with  "  the  carpenter."  And 
it  is  plain  enough  that  they  found  no  impressive  or 
significant  difference  from  their  neighbours  in  the 
"  sisters  "  of  Jesus,  nor  even  in  her  whom  all  genera- 
tions call  blessed.  Why  then  should  they  abase  them- 
selves before  the  claims  of  Jesus  ? 

It  is  an  instructive  incident.  First  of  all,  it  shows 
us  the  perfection  of  our  Lord's  abasement.  He  was  not 
only  a  carpenter's  son,  but  what  this  passage  only  de- 
clares to  us  explicitly.  He  wrought  as  an  artizan,  and 
consecrated  for  ever  a  lowly  trade,  by  the  toil  of  those 
holy  limbs  whose  sufferings  should  redeem  the  world. 

And  we  learn  the  abject  folly  of  judging  by  mere 
worldly  standards.  We  are  bound  to  give  due  honour 
and  precedence  to  rank  and  station.  Refusing  to  do 
this,  we  virtually  undertake  to  dissolve  society,  and 
readjust  it  upon  other  principles,  or  by  instincts  and 


l64  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 


intuitions  of  our  own,  a  grave  task,  when  it  is  realized. 
But  we  are  not  to  be  dazzled,  much  less  to  be  misled,  by 
the  advantages  of  station  or  of  birth.  Yet  if,  as  it  would 
seem,  Nazareth  rejected  Christ  because  He  was  not  a 
person  of  quality,  this  is  only  the  most  extreme  and 
ironical  exhibition  of  what  happens  every  day,  when  a 
noble  character,  self-denying,  self-controlled  and  wise, 
fails  to  win  the  respect  which  is  freely  and  gladly 
granted  to  vice  and  folly  in  a  coronet. 

And  yet,  to  one  who  reflected,  the  very  objection  they 
put  forward  was  an  evidence  of  His  mission.  His 
wisdom  was  confessed,  and  His  miracles  were  not 
denied ;  were  they  less  wonderful  or  more  amazing, 
more  supernatural,  as  the  endowments  of  the  carpenter 
whom  they  knew  ?  Whence,  they  asked,  had  He  de- 
rived His  learning,  as  if  it  were  not  more  noble  for 
being  original. 

Are  we  sure  that  men  do  not  still  make  the  same 
mistake?  The  perfect  and  lowly  humanity  of  Jesus 
is  a  stumbling  block  to  some  who  will  freely  admit 
His  ideal  perfections,  and  the  matchless  nobility  of  His 
moral  teaching.  They  will  grant  anything  but  the 
supernatural  origin  of  Him  to  Whom  they  attribute 
qualities  beyond  parallel.  But  whence  had  He  those 
qualities  ?  What  is  there  in  the  Galilee  of  the  first 
century  which  prepares  one  for  discovering  there  and 
then  the  revolutionizer  of  the  virtues  of  the  wrrld,  the 
most  original,  profound,  and  unique  of  all  teachers,  Hira 
Whose  example  is  still  mightier  than  His  precepts,  and 
only  not  more  perfect,  because  these  also  are  without 
a  flaw,  Him  Whom  even  unbelief  would  shrink  from 
saluting  by  so  cold  a  title  as  that  of  the  most  saintly  of 
the  saints.  To  ask  with  a  clear  scrutiny,  whence  the 
teaching  of  Jesus  came,  to  realize  the  isolation  from  all 


Mark vi.  1-6.]    REJECTED  IN  HIS   OWN  COUNTRY.         165 

centres  of  thought  and  movement,  of  this  Hebrew,  this 
provincial  among  Hebrews,  this  villager  in  Galilee,  this 
carpenter  in  a  village,  and  then  to  observe  His  mighty 
works  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  is  enough  to  satisfy 
all  candid  minds  that  His  earthly  circumstances  have 
something  totally  unlike  themselves  behind  them.  And 
the  more  men  give  ear  to  materialism  and  to  materialistic 
evolution  without  an  evolving  mind,  so  much  the  more 
does  the  problem  press  upon  them,  Whence  hath  this 
man  this  wisdom?  and  what  mean  these  mighty  works? 

From  our  Lord's  own  commentary  upon  their  rejec- 
tion we  learn  to  beware  of  the  vulgarising  effects  of 
familiarity.  They  had  seen  His  holy  youth,  against 
which  no  slander  was  ever  breathed.  And  yet,  while 
His  teaching  astonished  them.  He  had  no  honour  in 
his  own  house.  It  is  the  same  result  which  so  often 
seems  to  follow  from  a  lifelong  familiarity  with  Scripture 
and  the  means  of  grace.  We  read,  almost  mechanically, 
what  melts  and  amazes  the  pagan  to  whom  it  is  a  new 
word.  We  forsake,  or  submit  to  the  dull  7  0utine  of, 
ordinances  the  most  sacred,  the  most  sear  thing,  the 
most  invigorating  and  the  most  picturesque. 

And  yet  we  wonder  that  the  men  of  NajA^eth  could 
not  discern  the  divinity  of  "the  carpenfor/'  whose 
family  lived  quiet  and  unassuming  lives  in  their  own 
village. 

It  is  St.  Mark,  the  historian  of  the  energies  of  Christ, 
who  tells  us  that  He  "  could  there  do  no  miglity  work," 
with  only  sufficient  exception  to  prove  tbE-i  neither 
physical  power  nor  compassion  was  what  failed  Him, 
since  "  He  laid  His  hands  upon  a  few  sick  folk  and 
healed  them."  What  then  is  conveyed  by  thi^  bold 
phrase  ?  Surely  the  fearful  power  of  the  hiirAsi.'  ^ill 
to  resist  the  will  of  man's  compassionate  Red^^^'n^r 


l66  GOSPEL    OF  ST.  MARK. 

He  would  have  gathered  Jerusalem  under  His  wing, 
but  she  would  not ;  and  the  temporal  results  of  her 
disobedience  had  to  follow  ;  siege,  massacre  and  ruin. 
God  has  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  him  who  dieth, 
yet  death  follows,  as  the  inevitable  wages  of  sin. 
Therefore,  as  surely  as  the  miracles  of  Jesus  typified 
His  gracious  purposes  for  the  souls  of  men,  Who 
forgiveth  all  our  iniquities.  Who  healeth  all  our  dis- 
eases, so  surely  the  rejection  and  defeat  of  those  loving 
purposes  paralysed  the  arm  stretched  out  to  heal 
their  sick. 

Does  it  seem  as  if  the  words  ''  He  could  not,"  even 
thus  explained,  convey  a  certain  affront,  throw  a  shadow 
upon  the  glory  of  our  Master  ?  And  the  words  "  they 
mocked,  scourged,  crucified  Him,"  do  these  convey  no 
affront  ?  The  suffering  of  Jesus  was  not  only  physical : 
His  heart  was  wounded  ;  His  overtures  were  rejected  ; 
His  hands  were  stretched  out  in  vain ;  His  pity  and 
love  were  crucified. 

But  now  let  this  be  considered,  that  men  who  refuse 
His  Spirit  continually  presume  upon  His  mercy,  and 
expect  not  to  suffer  the  penalty  of  their  evil  deeds. 
Alas,  that  is  impossible.  Where  unbelief  rejected  His 
teaching.  He  "  could  not "  work  the  marvels  of  His 
grace.  How  shall  they  escape  who  reject  so  great 
salvation  ? 


Markvl7-I3-]     THE  MISSION  OF  THE    TWELVE,  167 


THE  MISSION  OF  THE   TWELVE, 

"  And  He  called  unto  Him  the  twelve,  and  began  to  send  them  forth 
by  two  and  two  ;  and  He  gave  them  authority  over  the  unclean  spirits  ,' 
and  He  charged  them  that  they  should  take  nothing  for  /-4^?V  journey, 
save  a  staff  only  ;  no  bread,  no  wallet,  no  money  in  their  purse  ;  but  U 
go  shod  with  sandals  :  and,  said  He,  put  not  on  two  coats.  And  He 
said  unto  them,  Wheresoever  ye  enter  into  a  house,  there  abide  till  ye 
depart  thence.  And  whatsoever  place  shall  not  receive  you,  and  they 
hear  you  not,  as  ye  go  forth  thence,  shake  off  the  dust  that  is  under  your 
feet  for  a  testimony  unto  them.  And  they  went  out,  and  preached  that 
men  should  repent.  And  they  cast  out  many  devils,  and  anointed  with 
oil  many  that  were  sick,  and  healed  them." — Mark  vi.  7-13  (R.V.). 

Repulsed  a  second  time  from  the  cradle  of  His  youth, 
even  as  lately  from  Decapolis,  with  what  a  heavy  heart 
must  the  Loving  One  have  turned  away.  Yet  we  read 
of  no  abatement  of  His  labours.  He  did  not,  like  the 
fiery  prophet,  wander  into  the  desert  and  make  request 
that  He  might  die.  And  it  helps  us  to  realise  the 
elevation  of  our  Lord,  when  we  reflect  how  utterly 
the  discouragement  with  which  we  sympathise  in  the 
great  Elijah  would  ruin  our  conception  of  Jesus. 

It  was  now  that  He  set  on  foot  new  efforts,  and 
advanced  in  the  training  of  His  elect.  For  Himself, 
He  went  about  the  villages,  whither  slander  and  pre- 
judice had  not  yet  penetrated,  and  was  content  to 
break  new  ground  among  the  most  untaught  and 
sequestered  of  the  people.  The  humblest  field  of 
labour  was  not  too  lowly  for  the  Lord,  although  we 
meet,  every  day,  with  men  who  are  "  thrown  away " 
and  "  buried "  in  obscure  fields  of  usefulness.  We 
have  not  yet  learned  to  follow  without  a  murmur  the 
Carpenter,  and  the  Teacher  in  villages,  even  though  we 
are  soothed  in  grief  by  thinking,  because  we  endure  the 
inevitable,  that  we  are  followers  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows. 


l68  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

At  the  same  moment  when  democracies  and  priesthoods 
are  rejecting  their  Lord,  a  king  had  destroyed  His 
forerunner.  On  every  account  it  was  necessary  to 
vary  as  well  as  multiply  the  means  for  the  evangeHsation 
of  the  country.  Thus  the  movement  would  be  ac- 
celerated, and  it  would  no  longer  present  one  solitary 
point  of  attack  to  its  unscrupulous  foes. 

Jesus  therefore  called  to  Him  the  Twelve,  and  began 
to  send  them  forth.  In  so  doing,  His  directions  revealed 
at  once  His  wisdom  and  His  fears  for  them. 

Not  even  for  unfallen  man  was  it  good  to  be  alone. 
It  was  a  bitter  ingredient  in  the  cup  which  Christ 
Himself  drank,  that  His  followers  should  be  scattered 
to  their  own  and  leave  Him  alone.  And  it  was  at  the 
last  extremity,  when  he  could  no  longer  forbear,  that 
St.  Paul  thought  it  good  to  be  at  Athens  alone.  Jesus 
therefore  would  not  send  His  inexperienced  heralds 
forth  for  the  first  time  except  by  two  and  two,  that  each 
might  sustain  the  courage  and  wisdom  of  his  comrade. 
And  His  example  was  not  forgotten.  Peter  and  John 
together  visited  the  converts  in  Samaria.  And  when 
Paul  and  Barnabas,  whose  first  journey  was  together, 
could  no  longer  agree,  each  of  them  took  a  new  comrade 
end  departed.  Perhaps  our  modern  missionaries  lose 
more  in  energy  than  is  gained  in  area  by  neglecting  so 
humane  a  precedent,  and  forfeiting  the  special  presence 
vouchsafed  to  the  common  worship  of  two  or  three. 

St.  Mark  has  not  recorded  the  mission  of  the  seventy 
evangelists,  but  this  narrative  is  clearly  coloured  by 
his  knowledge  of  that  event.  Thus  He  does  not 
mention  the  gift  of  miraculous  power,  which  was 
common  to  both,  but  He  does  tell  of  the  authority 
over  unclean  spirits,  which  was  explicitly  given  to  the 
Twelve,    and  which  the  Seventy,  returning  witn  joy, 


Maixvi.7-I3]     THE  MISSION  OF  THE   TWELVE.  169 

related  that  they  also  had  successfully  dared  to  claim. 
In  conferring  such  power  upon  His  disciples,  Jesu3 
took  the  first  step  towards  that  marvellous  identification 
of  Himself  and  His  mastery  over  evil,  with  all  His 
followers,  that  giving  of  His  presence  to  their  assemblies, 
His  honour  to  their  keeping,  His  victory  to  their 
experience,  and  His  lifeblood  to  their  veins,  which 
makes  Him  the  second  Adam,  represented  in  all  the  new- 
born race,  and  which  finds  its  most  vivid  and  blessed 
expression  in  the  sacrament  where  His  flesh  is  meat 
indeed  and  His  blood  is  drink  indeed.  Now  first  He 
is  seen  to  commit  His  powers  and  His  honour  into 
mortal  hands. 

In  doing  this,  He  impressed  on  them  the  fact  that 
they  were  not  sent  at  first  upon  a  toilsome  and 
protracted  journey.  Their  personal  connection  with 
Him  was  not  broken  but  suspended  for  a  little  while. 
Hereafter,  they  would  need  to  prepare  for  hardship, 
and  he  that  had  two  coats  should  take  them.  It  was 
not  so  now :  sandals  would  suffice  their  feet ;  they 
should  carry  no  wallet ;  only  a  staff  was  needed  for 
their  brief  excursion  through  a  hospitable  land.  But 
hospitality  itself  would  have  its  dangers  for  them, 
and  when  warmly  received  they  might  be  tempted  to 
be  feted  by  various  hosts,  enjoying  the  first  enthusiastic 
welcome  of  each,  and  refusing  to  share  afterwards  the 
homely  domestic  life  which  would  succeed.  Yet  it  was 
when  they  ceased  to  be  strangers  that  their  influence 
would  really  be  strongest;  and  so  there  was  good 
reason,  both  for  the  sake  of  the  family  they  might 
win,  and  for  themselves  who  should  not  become  self- 
indulgent,  why  they  should  not  go  from  house  to 
house. 

These  directions  were  not  meant  to  become  universal 


170  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

rules,  and  we  have  seen  how  Jesus  afterwards  explicitly 
varied  them.  But  their  spirit  is  an  admonition  to  all 
who  are  tempted  to  forget  their  mission  in  personal 
advantages  which  it  may  offer.  Thus  commissioned 
and  endowed;  they  should  feel  as  they  went  the  great- 
ness of  the  message  they  conveyed.  Wherever  they 
were  rejected,  no  false  meekness  should  forbid  their 
indignant  protest,  and  they  should  refuse  to  carry 
even  the  dust  of  that  evil  and  doomed  place  upon 
their  feet. 

And  they  went  forth  and  preached  repentance,  cast- 
ing out  many  devils,  and  healing  many  that  were  sick. 
In  doing  this,  they  anointed  them  with  oil,  as  St.  James 
afterwards  directed,  but  as  Jesus  never  did.  He  used 
no  means,  or  when  faith  needed  to  be  helped  by  a 
visible  application,  it  was  always  the  touch  of  His  own 
hand  or  the  moisture  of  His  own  lip.  The  distinction 
is  significant.  And  also  it  must  be  remembered  that  oil 
was  never  used  by  disciples  for  the  edification  of  the 
dying,  but  for  the  recovery  of  the  sick. 

By  this  new  agency  the  name  of  Jesus  was  more 
than  ever  spread  abroad,  until  it  reached  the  ears  of 
a  murderous  tyrant,  and  stirred  in  his  bosom  not  the 
repentance  which  they  preached,  but  the  horrors  of 
ineffectual  remorse. 

HEROD, 

"  And  king  Herod  heard  thereof;  for  His  name  had  become  known : 

and  he  said,  John  the  Baptist  is  risen  from  the  dead,  and  therefore  do 
these  powers  work  in  him.  But  others  said,  It  is  Elijah.  And  others 
said,  //  is  a  prophet,  even  as  one  of  the  prophets.  But  Herod,  when 
he  heard  thereof,  said,  John,  whom  I  beheaded,  he  is  risen.  For 
Herod  himself  had  sent  forth  and  laid  hold  upon  John,  and  bound  him 
in  prison  for  the  sake  of  Herodias,  his  brother  Philip's  wife  :  for  he 
bad  married  her.  For  John  said  unto  Herod,  It  is  not  lawful  for  thee 
to  have  thy  brother's  wife.     And  Herodias  set  herself  against  him,  and 


Markvi.  iA-29.]  HEROD,  171 

desired  to  kill  him ;  and  she  could  not ;  for  Herod  feared  John,  know- 
ing that  he  was  a  righteous  man  and  a  holy,  and  kept  him  safe.  And 
when  he  heard  him,  he  was  much  perplexed  ;  and  he  heard  him  gladly. 
And  when  a  convenient  day  was  come,  that  Herod  on  his  birthday 
made  a  supper  to  his  lords,  and  the  high  captains,  and  the  chief  men 
of  Galilee ;  and  when  the  daughter  of  Herodias  herself  came  in  and 
danced,  she  pleased  Herod  and  them  that  sat  at  meat  with  him ;  and 
the  king  said  unto  the  damsel,  Ask  of  me  whatsoever  thou  wilt,  and  I 
will  give  it  thee.  And  he  sware  unto  her,  Whatsoever  thou  shalt  ask 
of  me,  I  will  give  it  thee,  unto  the  half  of  my  kingdom.  And  she  went 
out,  and  said  unto  her  mother,  Wliat  shall  I  ask  ?  And  she  said.  The 
head  of  John  the  Baptist.  And  she  came  in  straightway  with  haste 
unto  the  king,  and  asked,  saying,  I  will  that  thou  forthwith  give  me  in 
a  charger  the  head  of  J^hn  the  Baptist.  And  the  king  was  exceeding 
sorry  j  but  for  the  sake  of  his  oaths,  and  of  them  that  sat  at  meat,  he 
would  not  reject  her.  And  straightway  the  king  sent  forth  a  soldier 
of  his  guard,  and  commanded  to  bring  his  head  :  and  he  went  and 
beheaded  him  in  the  prison,  and  brought  his  head  in  a  charger,  and 
gave  it  to  the  damsel ;  and  the  damsel  gave  it  to  her  mother.  And 
when  his  disciples  heard  thereof,  they  came  and  took  up  his  corpse, 
and  laid  it  in  a  tomb." — Mark  vi.  14-29  (R.V.). 

The  growing  influence  of  Jesus  demanded  the  mission 
of  the  Twelve,  and  this  in  its  turn  increased  His  fame 
until  it  alarmed  the  tetrarch  Herod.  An  Idumaean 
ruler  of  Israel  was  forced  to  dread  every  religious 
movement,  for  all  the  waves  of  Hebrew  fanaticism  beat 
against  the  foreign  throne.  And  Herod  Antipas  was 
especially  the  creature  of  circumstances,  a  weak  and 
plastic  man.  He  is  the  Ahab  of  the  New  Testament, 
and  it  is  a  curious  coincidence  that  he  should  have  to 
do  with  its  EUjah.  As  Ahab  fasted  when  he  heard  his 
doom,  and  postponed  the  evil  by  his  submission,  so 
Herod  was  impressed  and  agitated  by  the  teaching  of 
the  Baptist.  But  Ahab  surrendered  his  soul  to  the 
imperious  Jezebel,  and  Herod  was  ruined  by  Herodias. 
Each  is  the  sport  of  strong  influences  from  without, 
and  warns  us  that  a  man,  no  more  than  a  ship,  can 
hope  by  drifting  to  come  safe  to  haven. 


172  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

No  contrast  could  be  imagined  more  dramatic  than 
between  the  sleek  seducer  of  his  brother's  wife  and  the 
imperious  reformer,  rude  in  garment  and  frugal  of  fare, 
thundering  against  the  generation  of  vipers  who  were 
the  chiefs  of  his  rehgion. 

How  were  these  two  brought  together?  Did  the 
Baptist  stride  unsummoned  into  the  court?  Did  his 
crafty  foemen  contrive  his  ruin  by  inciting  the  Tetrarch 
to  consult  him  ?  Or  did  that  restless  religious  curiosity, 
which  afterwards  desired  to  see  Jesus,  lead  Herod  to 
consult  his  forerunner?  The  abrupt  words  of  John 
are  not  unlike  an  answer  to  some  feeble  question  of 
casuistry,  some  plea  of  extenuating  circumstances  such 
as  all  can  urge  in  mitigation  of  their  worst  deeds.  He 
simply  and  boldly  states  the  inflexible  ordinance  of 
God  :  It  is  not  lawful  for  thee  to  have  her. 

What  follows  may  teach  us  much. 

I.  It  warns  us  that  good  inclinations,  veneration  for 
holiness  in  others,  and  ineffectual  struggles  against  our 
own  vices,  do  not  guarantee  salvation.  He  who  feels 
them  is  not  God-forsaken,  since  every  such  emotion  is 
a  grace.  But  he  must  not  infer  that  he  never  may  be 
forsaken,  or  that  because  he  is  not  wholly  indifferent 
or  disobedient,  God  will  some  day  make  him  all  that 
his  better  moods  desire.  Such  a  man  should  be  warned 
by  Herod  Antipas.  Ruggedly  and  abruptly  rebuked, 
his  soul  recognised  and  did  homage  to  the  truthfulness 
of  his  teacher.  Admiration  replaced  the  anger  in  which 
he  cast  him  into  prison.  As  he  stood  between  him 
and  the  relentless  Herodias,  and  "  kept  him  safely,"  he 
perhaps  believed  that  the  gloomy  dungeon,  and  the 
utter  interruption  of  a  great  career,  were  only  for  the 
Baptist's  preservation.  Alas,  there  was  another  cause. 
He  was  ^'much  perplexed"  :  he  dared  not  provoke  hia 


Miuk>i.  .v^.j  HEROD,  173 

temptress  by  releasing  the  man  of  God.  And  thus 
temporizing,  and  daily  weakening  the  voice  of  con- 
science by  disobedience,  he  was  lost. 

2.  It  is  distinctly  a  bad  omen  that  he  "  heard  him 
gladly,"  since  he  had  no  claim  to  well-founded  reli- 
gious happiness.  Our  Lord  had  already  observed  the 
shallowness  of  men  who  immediately  with  joy  receive 
the  word,  yet  have  nc  root.  But  this  guilty  man, 
disquieted  by  the  reproaches  of  memory  and  the 
demands  of  conscience,  found  it  a  relief  to  hear  stern 
truth,  and  to  see  from  far  the  beauteous  light  of 
righteousness.  He  would  not  reform  his  life,  but  he 
would  fain  keep  his  sensibilities  alive.  It  was  so  that 
Italian  brigands  used  to  maintain  a  priest.  And  it 
is  so  that  fraudulent  British  tradesmen  too  frequently 
pass  for  religious  men.  People  cry  shame  on  their 
hypocrisy.  Yet  perhaps  they  less  often  wear  a  mask 
to  deceive  others  than  a  cloke  to  keep  their  own  hearts 
warm,  and  should  not  be  quoted  to  prove  that  religion 
is  a  deceit,  but  as  witnesses  that  even  the  most  worldly 
soul  craves  as  much  of  it  as  he  can  assimilate.  So  it 
was  with  Herod  Antipas. 

3.  But  no  man  can  serve  two  masters.  He  who  re- 
fuses the  command  of  God  to  choose  whom  he  will  serve, 
in  calmness  and  meditation,  when  the  means  of  grace 
and  the  guidance  of  the  Spirit  are  with  him,  shall  hear 
some  day  the  voice  of  the  Tempter,  derisive  and  trium- 
phant, amid  evil  companions,  when  flushed  with  guilty 
excitements  and  with  sensual  desires,  and  deeply  com- 
mitted by  rash  words  and  "  honour  rooted  in  dishonour," 
bidding  him  choose  now,  and  choose  finally.  Salome 
will  tolerate  neither  weak  hesitation  nor  half  measures  ; 
she  must  herself  possess  "  forthwith  "  the  head  of  her 
mother's  foe,  which  is  worth  more  than  half  the  kingdom, 


174  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

since  his  influence  might  rob  them  of  it  all.  And  the 
king  was  exceeding  sorry,  but  chose  to  be  a  murderer 
rather  than  be  taken  for  a  perjurer  by  the  bad  com- 
panions who  sat  with  him.  What  a  picture  of  a  craven 
soul,  enslaved  even  in  the  purple.  And  of  the  meshes 
for  his  own  feet  which  that  man  weaves,  who  gathers 
around  him  such  friends  that  their  influence  will  surely 
mislead  his  lonely  soul  in  its  future  struggles  to  be 
virtuous.  What  a  lurid  hght  does  this  passage  throw 
upon  another  and  a  worse  scene,  when  we  meet  Herod 
again,  not  without  me  tyrannous  influence  of  his  men 
of  war. 

4.  We  learn  the  mysterious  interconnection  of  sin 
with  sin.  Vicious  luxury  and  self-indulgence,  the 
plastic  feebleness  of  character  which  half  yields  to  John, 
yet  cannot  break  with  Herodias  altogether,  these  do  not 
seem  likely  to  end  in  murder.  They  have  scarcely 
strength  enough,  we  feel,  for  a  great  crime.  Alas,  they 
have  feebleness  enough  for  it,  for  he  who  joins  in  the 
dance  of  the  graces  may  give  his  hand  to  the  furies 
unawares.  Nothing  formidable  is  to  be  seen  in  Herod, 
up  to  the  fatal  moment  when  revelry,  and  the  influence 
of  his  associates,  and  the  graceful  dancing  of  a  woman 
whose  beauty  was  pitiless,  urged  him  irresistibly  for- 
ward to  bathe  his  shrinking  hands  in  blood.  And  from 
this  time  forward  he  is  a  lost  man.  When  a  greater 
than  John  is  reported  to  be  working  miracles,  he  has  a 
wild  explanation  for  the  new  portent,  and  his  agitation 
is  betrayed  in  his  broken  words,  "John,  whom  I  be- 
headed, he  is  risen."  "  For  "  St.  Mark  adds  with  quiet 
but  grave  significance,  "  Herod  himself  had  sent  forth 
and  laid  hold  upon  John,  and  bound  him."  Others  might 
speak  of  a  mere  teacher,  but  the  conscience  of  Herod 
will  not  SI  ffer  it  to  be  so  ;  it  is  his  victim  ;  he  has  learnt 


Mark  vi.  14-29.]  IIKROD.  175 

the  secret  of  eternity  ;  "  and  therefore  do  these  powers 
work  in  him."     Yet  Herod  was  a  Sadducee. 

5.  These  words  are  dramatic  enough  to  prove  them- 
selves; it  would  have  tasked  Shakespere  to  invent  them. 
But  they  involve  .he  ascription  from  the  first  of  unearthly 
powers  to  Jesus,  and  they  disprove,  what  sceptics  would 
fain  persuade  us,  that  miracles  were  inevitably  ascribed, 
by  the  credulity^  of  the  age,  to  all  great  teachers,  since 
John  wrought  none,  and  the  astonishing  theory  that 
he  had  graduated  in  another  world,  was  invented  by 
Herod  to  account  for  those  of  Jesus.  How  inevitable 
it  was  that  such  a  man  should  set  at  nought  our  Lord. 
Dread,  and  moral  repulsion,  and  the  suspicion  that  he 
himself  was  the  mark  against  which  all  the  powers  of 
the  avenger  would  be  directed,  these  would  not  produce 
a  mood  in  which  to  comprehend  One  who  did  not  strive 
nor  cry.  To  them  it  was  a  supreme  relief  to  be  able  to 
despise  Christ. 

Elsewhere  we  can  trace  the  gradual  cessation  of  the 
alarm  of  Herod.  At  first  he  dreads  the  presence  of  the 
new  Teacher,  and  yet  dares  not  assail  Him  openly. 
And  so,  when  Jesus  was  advised  to  go  thence  or  Herod 
would  kill  Him,  He  at  once  knew  who  had  instigated 
the  crafty  monition,  and  sent  back  his  defiance  to  that 
fox.  But  even  fear  quickly  dies  in  a  callous  heart,  and 
only  curiosity  survives.  Herod  is  soon  glad  to  see 
Jesus,  and  hopes  that  He  may  work  a  miracle.  For 
religious  curiosity  and  the  love  of  spiritual  excitement 
often  survive  grace,  just  as  the  love  of  stimulants  sur- 
vives the  healthy  appetite  for  bread.  But  our  Lord, 
Who  explained  so  much  for  Pilate,  spoke  not  a  word  to 
him.  And  the  wretch,  whom  once  the  forerunner  had 
all  but  won,  now  set  the  Christ  Himself  at  nought,  and 
mocked  Him.     So  yet  does  the  God  of  this  world  blind 


176  GOSPEL   OF  ST,  MARK. 

!    .         ...      I       ■     ■  '  '  I.  WH 

the  eyes  of  the  unbelieving.  So  great  are  still  the 
dangers  of  hesitation,  since  not  to  be  for  Christ  is  to 
be  against  Him. 

6.  But  the  blood  of  the  martyr  was  not  shed  before 
his  work  was  done.  As  the  falling  blossom  admits  the 
sunshine  to  the  fruit,  so  the  herald  died  when  his 
influence  might  have  clashed  with  the  growing  influence 
of  his  Lord,  Whom  the  Twelve  were  at  last  trained  to 
proclaim  far  and  wide.  At  a  stroke,  his  best  followers 
were  naturally  transferred  to  Jesus,  Whose  way  he  had 
prepared.  Rightly,  therefore,  has  St.  Mark  placed  the 
narrative  at  this  juncture,  and  very  significantly  does 
St.  Matthew  relate  that  his  disciples,  when  they  had 
buried  him,  "  came  and  told  Jesus." 

Upon  the  path  of  our  Lord  Himself  this  violent  death 
fell  as  a  heavy  shadow.  Nor  was  He  unconscious  oi 
its  menace,  for  after  the  transfiguration  He  distinctly 
connected  with  a  prediction  of  His  own  death,  the  fact 
that  they  had  done  to  Elias  also  whatsoever  they  fisted. 
Such  connections  of  thought  help  us  to  realise  the  truth, 
that  not  once  only,  but  throughout  His  ministry.  He 
Who  bids  us  bear  our  cross  while  we  follow  Him,  was 
consciously  bearing  His  own.  We  must  not  limit  to 
*'  three  days  "  the  sorrows  which  redeemed  the  world. 

BREAD  IN  THE  DESERT. 

**  And  the  apostles  gather  themselves  together  unto  Jesus  j  and  th-^y 
told  Him  all  things,  whatsoever  they  had  done,  and  whatsoever  they 
had  taught.  And  He  saith  unto  them,  Come  ye  yourselves  apart  mto  a 
desert  place,  and  rest  awhile.  For  there  were  many  coming  and  going, 
and  they  had  no  leisure  so  much  as  to  cat  And  they  went  away  in 
the  boat  to  a  desert  place  apart.  And  the  people  saw  them  going,  and 
many  knew  them,  and  they  ran  there  together  on  foot  from  all  the 
cities,  and  outwent  them.  And  He  came  forth  and  saw  a  great 
multitude,  and  He  had  compassion  on  them,  because  they  were  as 


Mark  vi.  30-46.]      BREAD  IN  THE  DESERT.  1 77 

sheep  not  having  a  shepherd :  and  He  began  to  teach  them  many 
things.  And  when  the  day  was  now  far  spent,  His  disciples  came 
unto  Him,  and  said,  The  place  is  desert,  and  the  day  is  now  far  spent  : 
send  them  away,  that  they  may  go  into  the  country  and  villages  round 
about,  and  buy  themselves  somewhat  to  eat.  But  He  answered  and 
said  unto  them,  Give  ye  them  to  eat.  And  they  say  unto  Him,  Shall 
we  go  and  buy  two  hundred  pennyworth  of  bread,  and  give  them  to 
eat?  And  He  saith  unto  them,  How  many  loaves  have  ye?  go  and 
see.  And  when  they  knew,  they  say,  Five,  and  two  fishes.  And  He 
commanded  them  that  all  should  sit  down  by  companies  upon  the 
green  grass.  And  they  sat  down  in  ranks,  by  hundreds,  and  by  fifties. 
And  He  took  the  five  loaves  and  the  two  fishes,  and  looking  up  to 
heaven.  He  blessed,  and  brake  the  loaves ;  and  He  gave  to  the  disciples 
to  set  before  them  ;  and  the  two  fishes  divided  He  among  them  all. 
And  they  did  all  eat,  and  were  filled.  And  they  took  up  broken  pieces, 
twelve  basketfuls,  and  also  of  the  fishes.  And  they  that  ate  the  loave 
were  five  thousand  men.  And  straightway  He  constrained  His 
disciples  to  enter  into  the  boat,  and  to  go  before  Him  unto  the  other 
side  to  Bethsaida,  while  He  Himself  sendeth  the  multitude  away. 
And  after  He  had  taken  leave  of  them  He  departed  into  the  mountain 
to  pray." — Mark  vi.  30-46  (R.V.). 

The  Apostles,  now  first  called  by  that  name,  because 
now  first  these  ^'  Messengers  "  had  carried  the  message 
of  their  Lord,  returned  and  told  Him  all,  the  miracles 
they  had  performed,  and  whatever  they  had  taught. 
From  the  latter  clause  it  is  plain  that  to  preach  "  that 
men  should  repent,'*  involved  arguments,  motives,  pro- 
mises, and  perhaps  threatenings  which  rendered  it  no 
meagre  announcement.  It  is  in  truth  a  demand  which 
involves  free  will  and  responsibility  as  its  bases,  and 
has  hell  or  heaven  for  the  result  of  disobedience  or 
compliance.  Into  what  controversies  may  it  have  led 
these  first  preachers  of  Jesus  I  All  was  now  submitted 
to  the  judgment  of  their  Master.  And  happy  are  they 
still  who  do  not  shrink  from  the  heahng  pain  of 
bringing  all  their  actions  and  words  to  Him,  and 
hearkening  what  the  Lord  will  speak. 

Upon  the  whole,  they  brought  a  record  of  success, 

12 


178  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK 

And  around  Him  also  were  so  many  coming  and  going 
that  they  had  no  leisure  so  much  as  to  eat.  Where- 
upon Jesus  draws  them  aside  to  rest  awhile.  For  the 
balance  must  never  be  forgotten  between  the  outer  and 
the  inner  life.  The  Lord  Himself  spent  the  follow- 
ing night  in  prayer,  until  He  saw  the  distress  of  His 
disciples,  and  came  to  them  upon  the  waves.  And  the 
time  was  at  hand  when  they,  who  now  rejoiced  that 
the  devils  were  subject  unto  them,  should  learn  by 
sore  humiliation  and  defeat  that  this  kind  goeth  not 
forth  except  by  prayer.  We  may  be  certain  that  it 
was  not  bodily  repose  alone  that  Jesus  desired  for  his 
flushed  and  excited  ambassadors,  in  the  hour  of  their 
success.  And  yet  bodily  repose  also  at  such  a  time  is 
healing,  and  in  the  very  pause,  the  silence,  the  cess- 
ation of  the  rush,  pressure,  and  excitement  of  every 
conspicuous  career,  there  is  an  opportunity  and  even  a 
suggestion  of  calm  and  humble  recollection  of  the  soul. 
Accordingly  they  crossed  in  the  boat  to  some  quiet  spot, 
open  and  unreclaimed,  but  very  far  from  such  dreari- 
ness as  the  mention  of  a  desert  suggests  to  us.  But 
the  people  saw  Him,  and  watched  His  course,  while  out- 
running him  along  the  coast,  and  their  numbers  were 
augmented  from  every  town  as  they  poured  through  it, 
until  He  came  forth  and  saw  a  great  multitude,  and 
knew  that  His  quest  of  solitude  was  baffled.  Few 
things  are  more  trying  than  the  world's  remorseless 
intrusion  upon  one's  privacy,  and  subversions  of  plans 
which  one  has  laid,  not  for  himself  alone.  But  Jesus 
was  as  thoughtful  for  the  multitude  as  He  had  just 
shown  Himself  to  be  for  His  disciples.  Not  to  petu- 
lance but  to  compassion  did  their  urgency  excite  Him ; 
for  as  they  streamed  across  the  wilderness,  far  from 
believing  upon  Him,   but  yet  conscious  of  sore  need, 


Mark  vi.  30-46.]    BREAD  IN  THE  DESERT.  179 

unsatisfied  with  the  doctrine  of  their  professional 
teachers,  and  just  bereaved  of  the  Baptist,  they  seemed 
in  the  desert  Hke  sheep  that  had  no  shepherd.  And 
He  patiently  taught  them  many  things. 

Nor  was  He  careful  only  for  their  souls.  We  have 
now  reached  that  remarkable  miracle  which  alone  is 
related  by  all  the  four  Evangelists.  And  the  narratives, 
while  each  has  its  individual  and  peculiar  points, 
corroborate  each  other  very  strikingly.  All  four  men- 
tion the  same  kind  of  basket,  quite  different  from  what 
appears  in  the  feeding  of  the  four  thousand.  St.  John 
alone  tells  us  that  it  was  the  season  of  the  Passover, 
the  middle  of  the  Galilean  spring-time ;  but  yet  this 
agrees  exactly  with  St.  Mark's  allusion  to  the  "  green 
grass  "  which  summer  has  not  yet  dried  up.  All  four 
have  recorded  that  Jesus  '*  blessed  '*  or  '*  gave  thanks," 
and  three  of  them  that  He  looked  up  to  heaven  while 
doing  so.  What  was  there  so  remarkable,  so  intense 
or  pathetic  in  His  expression,  that  it  should  have 
won  this  three-fold  celebration  ?  If  we  remember  the 
symbolical  meaning  of  what  He  did,  and  that  as  His 
hands  were  laid  upon  the  bread  which  He  would  break, 
so  His  own  body  should  soon  be  broken  for  the  relief 
of  the  hunger  of  the  world,  how  can  we  doubt  that 
absolute  self-devotion,  infinite  love,  and  pathetic  resig- 
nation were  in  that  wonderful  look,  which  never  could 
be  forgotten  ? 

There  could  have  been  but  few  women  and  children 
among  the  multitudes  who  "  outran  Jesus,"  and  these 
few  would  certainly  have  been  trodden  down  if  a  rush 
of  strong  and  hungry  men  for  bread  had  taken  place. 
Therefore  St.  John  mentions  that  while  Jesus  bade 
**  the  people  "  to  be  seated,  it  was  the  men  who  were 
actually  arranged  (vi.  10  R.V.).     Groups  of  fifty  were 


l8o  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

easy  to  keep  in  order,  and  a  hundred  of  these  were  easily 
counted.  And  thus  it  comes  to  pass  that  we  know 
that  there  were  five  thousand  men,  while  the  women 
and  children  remained  unreckoned,  as  St.  Matthew 
asserts,  and  St.  Mark  implies.  This  is  a  kind  of 
harmony  which  we  do  not  find  in  two  versions  of  any 
legend.  Nor  could  any  legendary  impulse  have  ima- 
gined the  remarkable  injuction,  which  impressed  all 
four  Evangelists,  to  be  frugal  when  it  would  seem  that 
the  utmost  lavishness  was  pardonable.  They  were 
not  indeed  bidden  to  gather  up  fragments  left  behind 
upon  the  ground,  for  thrift  is  not  meanness  ;  but  the 
*'  broken  pieces  "  which  our  Lord  had  provided  over  and 
above  should  not  be  lost.  '*  This  union  of  economy 
with  creative  power,"  said  Olshausen,  "  could  never 
have  been  invented,  and  yet  Nature,  that  mirror  of 
the  Divine  perfections,  exhibits  the  same  combination 
of  boundless  munificence  with  truest  frugality."  And 
Godet  adds  the  excellent  remark,  that  "a  gift  so 
obtained  was  not  to  be  squandered." 

There  is  one  apparent  discord  to  set  against  these 
remarkable  harmonies,  and  it  will  at  least  serve  to 
show  that  they  are  not  calculated  and  artificial. 

St.  John  represents  Jesus  as  the  first  to  ask  Philip, 
Whence  are  we  to  buy  bread  ?  whereas  the  others 
represent  the  Twelve  as  urging  upon  Him  the  need  to 
dismiss  the  multitude,  at  so  late  an  hour,  from  a  place 
so  ill  provided.  The  inconsistency  is  only  an  apparent 
one.  It  was  early  in  the  day,  and  upon  "seemg  a 
great  company  come  unto  Him,"  that  Jesus  questioned 
Philip,  who  might  have  remembered  an  Old  Testament 
precedent,  when  Elisha  said  "  Give  unto  the  people  that 
they  may  eat.  And  his  servitor  said,  What  ?  shall  I 
set  this  before  an  hundred  men  ?     He  said,  again  .  .  . 


Mark  vi.  30-46.]    BREAD  IN  THE  DESERT,  181 

they  shall  both  eat  and  shall  also  leave  thereof."  But 
the  faith  of  Philip  did  not  respond,  and  if  any  hope  of 
a  miracle  were  excited,  it  faded  as  time  passed  over. 
Hours  later,  when  the  day  was  far  spent,  the  Twelve, 
now  perhaps  excited  by  Philip's  misgiving,  and  repeat- 
ing his  calculation  about  the  two  hundred  pence,  urge 
Jesus  to  dismiss  the  multitude.  They  took  no  action 
until  '*  the  time  was  already  past,"  but  Jesus  saw  the 
end  from  the  beginning.  And  surely  the  issue  taught 
them  not  to  distrust  their  Master's  power.  Now  the 
same  power  is  for  ever  with  the  Church ;  and  our 
heavenly  Father  knoweth  that  we  have  need  of  food 
and  raiment. 

Even  in  the  working  of  a  miracle,  the  scantiest 
means  vouchsafed  by  Providence  are  not  despised. 
Jesus  takes  the  barley-loaves  and  the  fishes,  and  so 
teaches  all  men  that  true  faith  is  remote  indeed  from 
the  fanaticism  which  neglects  any  resources  brought 
within  the  reach  of  our  study  and  our  toil.  And  to 
show  how  really  these  materials  were  employed,  the 
broken  pieces  which  they  gathered  are  expressly  said 
to  have  been  composed  of  the  barley-loaves  and  of 
the  fish. 

Indeed  it  must  be  remarked  that  in  no  miracle  of  the 
Gospel  did  Jesus  actually  create.  He  makes  no  new 
members  of  the  body,  but  restores  old  useless  ones. 
"And  so,  without  a  substratum  to  work  upon  He 
creates  neither  bread  nor  wine."  To  do  this  would  not 
have  been  a  whit  more  difficult,  but  it  would  have  ex- 
pressed less  aptly  His  mission,  which  was  not  to  create 
a  new  system  of  thing,  shut  to  renew  the  old,  to  recover 
the  lost  sheep,  and  to  heal  the  sick  at  heart. 

Every  circumstance  of  this  miracle  is  precious. 
That  vigilant  care  for  the  weak  which  made  the  people 


i82  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARIC, 

sit  down  in  groups,  and  await  their  turn  to  be  supplied, 
is  a  fine  example  of  the  practical  eye  for  details  which 
was  never,  before  or  since,  so  perfectly  united  with 
profound  thought,  insight  into  the  mind  of  God  and  the 
wants  of  the  human  race. 

The  words,  Give  ye  them  to  eat,  may  serve  as  an 
eternal  rebuke  to  the  helplessness  of  the  Church,  face 
to  face  with  a  starving  world,  and  regarding  her  own 
scanty  resources  with  dismay.  In^  the  presence  of 
heathenism,  of  dissolute  cities,  and  of  semi-pagan  pea- 
santries, she  is  ever  looking  wistfully  to  some  costly 
far-off  supply.  And  her  Master  is  ever  bidding  her 
believe  that  the  few  loaves  and  fishes  in  her  hand,  if 
blessed  and  distributed  by  Him,  will  satisfy  the  famine 
of  mankind. 

For  in  truth  He  is  Himself  this  bread.  All  that 
the  Gospel  of  St.  John  explains,  underlies  the  narratives 
of  the  four.  And  shame  on  us,  with  Christ  given  to 
us  to  feed  and  strengthen  us,  if  we  think  our  resources 
scanty,  if  we  grudge  to  share  them  with  mankind,  if  we 
let  our  thoughts  wander  away  to  the  various  palliatives 
for  human  misery  and  salves  for  human  anguish,  which 
from  time  to  time  gain  the  credence  of  an  hour;  if  we 
send  the  hungry  to  the  country  and  villages  round 
about,  when  Christ  the  dispenser  of  the  Bread  of  souls, 
for  ever  present  in  His  Church,  is  saying,  They  need 
not  depart,  give  ye  them  to  eat. 

The  sceptical  explanations  of  this  narrative  are 
exquisitely  ludicrous.  One  tells  us  how,  finding  them- 
selves in  a  desert,  "  thanks  to  their  extreme  frugality 
they  were  able  to  exist,  and  this  was  naturally  "  (what, 
naturally  ?)  ^*  regarded  as  a  miracle."  This  is  called 
the  legendary  explanation,  and  every  one  can  judge 
for  himself  how  much  it  succeeds  in  explaining  to  him. 


Mark  vi.  30-40.]    BREAD  IN  THE  DESERT.  183 

Another  tells  us  that  Jesus  being  greater  than  Moses, 
it  was  felt  that  He  must  have  outstripped  him  in 
miraculous  power.  And  so  the  belief  grew  up  that  as 
Moses  fed  a  nation  during  forty  years,  with  angels' 
food,  He,  to  exceed  this,  must  have  bestowed  upon 
five  thousand  men  one  meal  of  barley  bread. 

This  is  called  the  mythical  explanation,  and  the 
credulity  which  accepts  it  must  not  despise  Christians, 
who  only  believe  their  Bibles. 

Jesus  had  called  away  His  followers  to  rest.  The 
multitude  which  beheld  this  miracle  was  full  of  pas- 
sionate hate  against  the  tyrant,  upon  whose  hands  the 
blood  of  the  Baptist  was  still  warm.  All  they  wa  ited 
was  a  leader.  And  now  they  would  fain  ha\c  tiken 
Jesus  by  force  to  thrust  this  perilous  honour  upon  Him. 
Therefore  He  sent  away  His  disciples  first,  that  am- 
bition and  hope  might  not  agitate  and  secularise  their 
minds ;  and  when  He  had  dismissed  the  multitude  He 
Himself  ascended  the  neighbouring  mountain,  to  cool 
His  frame  with  the  pure  breezes,  and  to  refresh  His 
Holy  Spirit  by  communion  with  His  Father.  Prayer 
was  natural  to  Jesus  ;  but  think  how  much  more  needful 
is  it  to  us.  And  yet  perhaps  we  have  never  taken  one 
hour  from  sleep  for  God. 


*' JESUS   WALKING  ON  THE    WATER,^ 

Mark  vi.  47-52  (R.V.). 

(See  iv.  36,  pp.  133— '4<^) 


l84  GOSPEL    OF  ST.  MARK. 


UNWASHEN  HANDS, 

"  And  when  they  had  crossed  over,  they  came  to  the  land  unto  Gen* 
nesaret,  and  moored  to  the  shore.  .  .  .  Making  void  the  word  of  God 
by  your  tradition,  which  ye  have  delivered  :  and  many  such  like  things 
ye  do." — Mark  vi.  53-vii.  13  (R.V.). 

There  is  a  condition  of  mind  which  readily  accepts  the 
temporal  blessings  of  religion,  and  yet  neglects,  and 
perhaps  despises,  the  spiritual  truths  which  they  ratify 
and  seal.  When  Jesus  landed  on  Gennesaret,  He  was 
straightway  known,  and  as  He  passed  through  the 
district,  there  was  hasty  bearing  of  all  the  sick  to  meet 
Him,  laying  them  in  public  places,  and  beseeching  Him 
that  they  might  touch,  if  no  more,  the  border  of  His 
garment.  By  the  faith  which  believed  in  so  easy  a  cure, 
a  timid  woman  had  recently  won  signal  commendation. 
But  the  very  fact  that  her  cure  had  become  public, 
while  it  accounts  for  the  action  of  these  crowds,  de- 
prives it  of  any  special  merit.  We  only  read  that 
as  many  as  touched  Him  were  made  whole.  And  we 
know  that  just  now  He  was  forsaken  by  many  even  of 
His  disciples,  and  had  to  ask  His  very  apostles.  Will 
ye  also  go  away  ? 

Thus  we  find  these  two  conflicting  movements: 
among  the  sick  and  their  friends  a  profound  persuasion 
that  He  can  heal  them ;  and  among  those  whom  He 
would  fain  teach,  resentment  and  revolt  against  His 
doctrine.  The  combination  is  strange,  but  we  dare  not 
call  it  unfamiliar.  We  see  the  opposing  tendencies 
even  in  the  same  man,  for  sorrow  and  pain  drive  to 
His  knees  many  a  one  who  will  not  take  upon  His  neck 
the  easy  yoke.  Yet  how  absurd  it  is  to  believe  in 
Christ's  goodness  and  His  power,  and  still  to  dare  to 
sin  against  Him,  still  to  reject  the  inevitable  inference 


Markvi.  53  vii-13]     UNWASHEN  HANDS.  185 

that  His  teaching  must  bring  bliss.  Men  ought  to  ask 
themselves  what  is  involved  when  they  pray  to  Christ 
and  yet  refuse  to  serve  Him. 

As  Jesus  moved  thus  around  the  district,  and 
responded  so  amply  to  their  supplication  that  His  very 
raiment  was  charged  with  health  as  if  with  electricity, 
which  leaps  out  at  a  touch,  what  an  effect  He  must 
have  produced,  even  upon  the  ceremonial  purity  of  the 
district.  Sickness  meant  defilement,  not  for  the  sufferer 
alone,  but  for  his  friends,  his  nurse,  and  the  bearers  of 
his  little  pallet.  By  the  recovery  of  one  sick  man,  a 
fountain  of  Levitical  pollution  was  dried  up.  And  the 
harsh  and  rigid  legalist  ought  to  have  perceived  that 
from  his  own  point  of  view  the  pilgrimage  of  Jesus  was 
like  the  breath  of  spring  upon  a  garden,  to  restore  its 
freshness  and  bloom. 

It  was  therefore  an  act  of  portentous  waywardness 
when,  at  this  juncture,  a  complaint  was  made  of  His 
indifference  to  ceremonial  cleanness.  For  of  course  a 
charge  against  His  disciples  was  really  a  complaint 
against  the  influence  which  guided  them  so  ill. 

It  was  not  a  disinterested  complaint.  Jerusalem 
Vf  as  alarmed  at  the  new  movement  resulting  from  the 
mission  of  the  Twelve,  their  miracles,  and  the  mighty 
works  which  He  Himself  had  lately  wrought.  And  a 
deputation  of  Pharisees  and  scribes  came  from  this 
centre  of  ecclesiastical  prejudice,  to  bring  Him  to 
account.  They  do  not  assail  His  doctrine,  nor  charge 
Him  with  violating  the  law  itself,  for  He  had  put  to 
shame  their  querulous  complaints  about  the  sabbath 
day.  But  tradition  was  altogether  upon  their  side  :  it 
was  a  weapon  ready  sharpened  for  their  use  against 
©ne  so  free,  unconventional  and  fearless. 

The  law  had  imposed  certain  restrictions  upon  the 


l86  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

chosen  race,  restrictions  which  were  admirably  sanitary 
in  their  nature,  while  aiming  also  at  preserving  the 
isolation  of  Israel  from  the  corrupt  and  foul  nations 
which  lay  around.  All  such  restrictions  were  now 
about  to  pass  away,  because  religion  was  to  become 
aggressive,  it  was  henceforth  to  invade  the  nations 
from  whose  inroads  it  had  heretofore  sought  a  covert. 
But  the  Pharisees  had  not  been  content  even  with  the 
severe  restrictions  of  the  law.  They  had  not  regarded 
these  as  a  fence  for  themselves  against  spiritual  im- 
purity, but  as  an  elaborate  and  artificial  substitute  for 
love  and  trust.  And  therefore,  as  love  and  spiritual 
religion  faded  out  of  their  hearts,  they  were  the  more 
jealous  and  sensitive  about  the  letter  of  the  law.  They 
"  fenced"  it  with  elaborate  rules,  and  precautions  against 
accidental  transgressions,  superstitiously  dreading  an 
involuntary  infraction  of  its  minutest  details.  Certain 
substances  were  unclean  food.  But  who  could  tell 
whether  some  atom  of  such  substance,  blown  about  in 
the  dust  of  summer,  might  adhere  to  the  hand  with 
which  he  ate,  or  to  the  cups  and  pots  whence  his  food 
was  drawn  ?  Moreover,  the  Gentile  nations  were  un- 
clean, and  it  was  not  possible  to  avoid  all  contact  with 
them  in  the  market-places,  returning  whence,  therefore, 
every  devout  Jew  was  careful  to  wash  himself,  which 
washing,  though  certainly  not  an  immersion,  is  here 
plainly  called  a  baptism.  Thus  an  elaborate  system 
of  ceremonial  washing,  not  for  cleansing,  but  as  a  reli- 
gious precaution,  had  grown  up  among  the  Jews. 

But  the  disciples  of  Jesus  had  begun  to  learn  their 
emancipation.  Deeper  and  more  spiritual  conceptions 
of  God  and  man  and  duty  had  grown  up  in  them.  And 
the  Pharisees  saw  that  they  ate  their  bread  with  un- 
washen  hands.    It  availed  nothing  that  half  a  population 


Markvi.53-vu.  I3-]      UN  WAS  HEN  HANDS.  187 

owed  purity  and  health  to  their  Divine  benevolence,  if  in 
the  process  the  letter  of  a  tradition  were  infringed.  It 
was  necessary  to  expostulate  with  Jesus,  because  they 
walked  not  according  to  the  tradition  of  the  elders,  that 
dried  skin  of  an  old  orthodoxy  in  which  prescription 
and  routine  would  ever  fain  shut  up  the  seething 
enthusiasms  and  insights  of  the  present  time. 

With  such  attempts  to  restrict  and  cramp  the  free 
life  of  the  soul,  Jesus  could  have  no  sympathy.  He 
knew  well  that  an  exaggerated  trust  in  any  form,  any 
routine  or  ritual  whatever,  was  due  to  the  need  of  some 
stay  and  support  for  hearts  which  have  ceased  to  trust 
in  a  Father  of  souls.  But  He  chose  to  leave  them 
without  excuse  by  showing  their  transgression  of  actual 
precepts  which  real  reverence  for  God  would  have 
respected.  Like  books  of  etiquette  for  people  who 
have  not  the  instincts  of  gentlemen  ;  so  do  ceremonial 
religions  spring  up  where  the  instinct  of  respect  for  the 
will  of  God  is  dull  or  dead.  Accordingly  Jesus  quotes 
against  these  Pharisees  a  distinct  precept,  a  word  not 
of  their  fathers,  but  of  God,  which  their  tradition  had 
caused  them  to  trample  upon.  If  any  genuine  reverence 
for  His  commandment  had  survived,  it  would  have 
been  outraged  by  such  a  collision  between  the  text  and 
the  gloss,  the  precept  and  the  precautionary  supple- 
ment. But  they  had  never  felt  the  incongruity,  never 
been  jealous  enough  for  the  commandment  of  God  to 
revolt  against  the  encroaching  tradition  which  insulted 
it.  The  case  which  Jesus  gave,  only  as  one  of  "  many 
such  like  things,"  was  an  abuse  of  the  system  of 
vows,  and  of  dedicated  property.  It  would  seem  that 
from  the  custom  of  "devoting"  a  man's  property, 
and  thus  putting  it  beyond  his  further  control,  had 
grown    up   the    abuse   of   consecrating   it   with    such 


i8S  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

limitations,  that  it  should  still  be  available  for  the 
owner,  but  out  of  his  powei  to  give  to  others.  And 
thus,  by  a  spell  as  abject  as  the  taboo  of  the  South  Sea 
islanders,  a  man  glorified  God  by  refusing  help  to  his 
father  and  mother,  without  being  at  all  the  poorer  for 
the  so-called  consecration  of  his  means.  And  even  if 
he  awoke  up  to  the  shameful  nature  of  his  deed,  it  was 
too  late,  for  "ye  no  longer  suffer  him  to  do  ought  for 
his  father  or  his  mother."  And  yet  Moses  had  made 
it  a  capital  offence  to  '*  speak  evil  of  father  or  mother." 
Did  they  then  allow  such  slanders  ?  Not  at  all,  and  so 
they  would  have  refused  to  confess  any  aptness  in  the 
quotation.  But  Jesus  was  not  thinking  of  the  letter  of 
a  precept,  but  of  the  spirit  and  tendency  of  a  religion, 
to  which  they  were  blind.  With  what  scorn  He  re- 
garded their  miserable  subterfuges,  is  seen  by  His 
vigorous  word,  "  full  well  do  ye  make  void  the  com- 
mandment of  God  that  ye  may  keep  your  traditions." 

Now  the  root  of  all  this  evil  was  unreality.  It  was 
not  merely  because  their  heart  was  far  from  God  that 
they  invented  hollow  formalisms ;  indifference  leads  to 
neglect,  not  to  a  perverted  and  fastidious  earnestness. 
But  while  their  hearts  were  earthly,  they  had  learned 
to  honour  God  with  their  lips.  The  judgments  which 
had  sent  their  fathers  into  exile,  the  pride  of  their 
unique  position  among  the  nations,  and  the  self-interest 
of  privileged  classes,  all  forbade  them  to  neglect  the 
worship  in  which  they  had  no  joy,  and  which,  therefore, 
they  were  unable  to  follow  as  it  reached  out  into 
infinity,  panting  after  Gcd,  a  living  God.  There  was 
no  principle  of  life,  growth,  aspiration,  in  their  dull 
obedience.  And  what  could  it  turn  into  but  a  routine, 
a  ritual,  a  verbal  homage,  and  the  honour  of  the  lips 
only  ?     And  how  could  such  a  worship  fail  to  shelter 


Markvi.53-vii.  I3-]     UAWAShEN  HAMDS.  189 


itself  in  evasions  from  the  heart-searching  earnestness 
of  a  law  which  was  spiritual,  while  the  worshipper  was 
carnal  and  sold  under  sin  ? 

It  was  inevitable  that  collisions  should  arise.  And 
the  same  results  will  always  follow  the  same  causes. 
Wherever  men  bow  the  knee  for  the  sake  of  respect- 
ability, or  because  they  dare  not  absent  themselves 
from  the  outward  haunts  of  piety,  yet  fail  to  love  God 
and  their  neighbour,  there  will  the  form  outrage  the 
spirit,  and  in  vain  will  they  worship,  teaching  as  their 
doctrines  the  traditions  of  men. 

Very  completely  indeed  was  the  relative  position  of 
Jesus  and  His  critics  reversed,  since  they  had  expressed 
pain  at  the  fruitless  effort  of  His  mother  to  speak  with 
Him,  and  He  had  seemed  to  set  the  meanest  disciple 
upon  a  level  with  her.  But  He  never  really  denied  the 
voice  of  nature,  and  they  never  really  heard  it.  An 
affectation  of  respect  would  have  satisfied  their  heart- 
less formality :  He  thought  it  the  highest  reward  of 
discipleship  to  share  the  warmth  of  His  love.  And 
therefore,  in  due  time,  it  was  seen  that  His  critics 
were  all  unconscious  of  the  wickedness  of  filial  neglect 
which  set  His  heart  on  ^e. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THINGS   WHICH  DEFILE. 

**  And  He  called  to  Him  the  multitude  again,  and  3ai(*.  nnto  them, 
Hear  Me  all  of  you,  and  understand  :  there  is  nothing  from  without 
the  man,  that  going  into  him  can  defile  him  :  but  the  things  which 
proceed  out  of  the  man  are  those  that  defile  the  man.  And  when  He 
was  entered  into  the  house  from  the  multitude,  His  disciples  asked  of 
Him  the  parable.  And  He  saith  unto  them,  Are  ye  so  without  under- 
standing also  ?  Perceive  ye  not,  that  whatsoever  from  without  goeth 
into  the  man,  «V  cannot  defile  him  ;  because  it  goeth  not  into  his  heart, 
but  into  his  belly,  and  goeth  out  into  the  draught  ?  This  He  said, 
making  all  meats  clean.  And  He  said,  That  which  proceedeth  out  of 
the  man,  that  defileth  the  man.  For  from  within,  out  of  the  heart  of 
men,  evil  thoughts  proceed,  fornications,  thefts,  murders,  adulteries, 
covetings,  wickednesses,  deceit,  lasciviousness,  an  evil  eye,  railing, 
pride,  foolishness  :  all  these  evil  things  proceed  from  within,  and  defile 
the  man."— Mark  vii.  14-23  (R.V.). 

WHEN  Jesus  had  exposed  the  hypocrisy  of  the 
Pharisees,  He  took  a  bold  and  significant  step. 
Calling  the  multitude  to  Him,  He  pubUcly  announced 
that  no  diet  can  really  pollute  the  soul ;  only  its  own 
actions  and  desires  can  do  that :  not  that  which  en- 
tereth  into  the  man  can  defile  him,  but  the  things 
which  proceed  out  of  the  man. 

He  does  not  as  yet  proclaim  the  abolition  of  the  law, 
but  He  surely  declares  that  it  is  only  temporary, 
because  it  is  conventional,  not  rooted  in  the  eternal 
distinctions  between  right  and  wrong,  but  artificial. 
And  He  shows  that  its  time  is  short  indeed,  by  charg- 


Mark  vU.  14-23.]     THINGS   WHICH  DEFILE.  191 

ing  the  multitude  to  understand  how  limited  is  its 
reach,  how  poor  are  its  effects. 

Such  teaching,  addressed  with  marked  emphasis  to 
the  public,  the  masses,  whom  the  Pharisees  despised 
as  ignorant  of  the  law,  and  cursed,  was  a  defiance 
indeed.  And  the  natural  consequence  was  an  opposi- 
tion so  fierce  that  He  was  driven  to  betake  Himself, 
for  the  only  time,  and  like  Elijah  in  his  extremity,  to  a 
Gentile  land.  And  yet  there  was  abundant  evidence  in 
the  Old  Testament  itself  that  the  precepts  of  the  law 
were  not  the  life  of  souls.  David  ate  the  shew  bread. 
The  priests  profaned  the  sabbath.  Isaiah  spiritualized 
fasting.  Zechariah  foretold  the  consecration  of  the 
Philistines.  Whenever  the  spiritual  energies  of  the 
ancient  saints  received  a  fresh  access,  they  were  seen 
to  strive  against  and  shake  off  some  of  the  trammels  of 
a  literal  and  servile  legalism.  The  doctrine  of  Jesus 
explained  and  justified  what  already  was  felt  by  the 
foremost  spirits  in  Israel. 

When  they  were  alone,  "  the  disciples  asked  of  Him 
the  parable,"  that  is,  in  other  words,  the  saying  which 
they  felt  to  be  deeper  than  they  understood,  and  full 
of  far-reaching  issues.  But  Jesus  rebuked  them  for 
not  understanding  what  uncleanness  really  meant. 
For  Him,  defilement  was  badness,  a  condition  of  the 
soul.  And  therefore  meats  could  not  defile  a  man, 
because  they  did  not  reach  the  heart,  but  only  the 
bodily  organs.  In  so  doing,  as  St.  Mark  plainly  adds. 
He  made  all  meats  clean,  and  thus  pronounced  the 
doom  of  Judaism,  and  the  new  dispensation  of  the 
Spirit.  In  truth,  St.  Paul  did  little  more  than  expand 
this  memorable  saying.  *' Nothing  that  goeth  into  a 
man  can  defile  him,"  here  is  the  germ  of  all  the  decision 
about  idol  meats — "  neither  if  'one'  eat  is  he  the  better, 


192  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

neither  if  he  eat  not  is  he  the  worse."  "  The  things 
which  proceed  out  of  the  man  are  those  which  defile 
the  man,"  here  is  the  germ  of  all  the  demonstration 
that  love  fulfils  the  law,  and  that  our  true  need  is  to 
be  renewed  inwardly,  so  that  we  may  bring  forth  fruit 
unto  God. 

But  the  true  pollution  of  the  man  comes  from  within; 
and  the  life  is  stained  because  the  heart  is  impure.  For 
from  within,  out  of  the  heart  of  men,  evil  thoughts  pro- 
ceed, like  the  uncharitable  and  bitter  judgments  of  His 
accusers — and  thence  come  also  the  sensual  indulgences 
which  men  ascribe  to  the  flesh,  but  which  depraved 
imaginations  excite,  and  love  of  God  and  their  neigh- 
bour would  restrain — and  thence  are  the  sins  of 
violence  which  men  excuse  by  pleading  sudden  pro- 
vocation, whereas  the  spark  led  to  a  conflagration  only 
because  the  heart  was  a  dry  fuel — and  thence,  plainly 
enough,  come  deceit  and  railing,  pride  and  folly. 

It  is  a  hard  saying,  but  our  conscience  acknowledges 
the  truth  of  it.  We  are  not  the  toy  of  circumstances, 
but  such  as  we  have  made  ourselves ;  and  our  lives 
would  have  been  pure  if  the  stream  had  flowed  from 
a  pure  fountain.  However  modern  sentiment  may  re- 
joice in  highly  coloured  pictures  of  the  noble  profligate 
and  his  pure  minded  and  elegant  victim ;  of  the  brigand 
or  the  border  ruffian  full  of  kindness,  with  a  heart  as 
gentle  as  his  hands  are  red ;  and  however  true  we 
may  feel  it  to  be  that  the  worst  heart  may  never  have 
betrayed  itself  by  the  worst  actions,  but  many  that  are 
first  shall  be  last,  it  still  continues  to  be  the  fact,  and 
undeniable  when  we  do  not  sophisticate  our  judgment, 
that  *'  all  these  evil  things  proceed  from  within." 

It  is  also  true  that  they  "further  defile  the  man."  The 
corruption  which  already  existed  in  the  heart  is  made 


Mark  vii.  14-23.]     THINGS   WHICH  DEFILE,  193 

worse  by  passing  into  action ;  shame  and  fear  are 
weakened ;  the  will  is  confirmed  in  evil ;  a  gap  it 
opened  or  widened  between  the  man  who  commits  a 
new  sin,  and  the  virtue  on  which  he  has  turned  his 
back.  Few,  alas  I  are  ignorant  of  the  defiling  power  of 
a  bad  action,  or  even  of  a  sinful  thought  deliberately 
harboured,  and  the  harbouring  of  which  is  really  an 
action,  a  decision  of  the  will. 

This  word  which  makes  all  meats  clean,  ought  for 
ever  to  decide  the  question  whether  certain  drinks  are 
in  the  abstract  unlawful  for  a  Christian. 

We  must  remember  that  it  leaves  untouched  the 
question,  what  restrictions  may  be  necessary  for  men 
who  have  depraved  and  debased  their  own  appetites, 
until  innocent  indulgence  does  reach  the  heart  and 
pervert  it.  Hand  and  foot  are  innocent,  but  men  there 
are  who  cannot  enter  into  life  otherwise  than  halt  or 
maimed.  Also  it  leaves  untouched  the  question,  as  long 
as  such  men  exist,  how  far  may  I  be  privileged  to 
share  and  so  to  lighten  the  burden  imposed  on  them 
by  past  transgressions  ?  It  is  surely  a  noble  sign  of 
religious  life  in  our  day,  that  many  thousands  can  say, 
as  the  Apostle  said,  of  innocent  joys,  '*  Have  we  not  a 
right  ?  .  .  .  Nevertheless  we  did  not  use  this  right,  but 
we  bear  all  things,  that  we  may  cause  no  hindrance 
to  the  gospel  of  Christ." 

Nevertheless  the  rule  is  absolute  :  "  Whatsoever  from 
without  goeth  into  the  man,  it  cannot  defile  him." 
And  the  Church  of  Christ  is  bound  to  maintain,  un- 
comproraised  and  absolute,  the  liberty  of  Christian 
souls. 

Let  us  not  fail  to  contrast  such  teaching  as  this 
of  Jesus  with  that  of  our  modern  materialism. 

"  The  value  of  meat  and  drink  is  perfectly  trans- 

13 


194  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


cendental,"  says  one.  "  Man  is  what  he  eats/'  say* 
another.  But  it  is  enough  to  make  us  tremble,  to  ask 
what  will  issue  from  such  teaching  if  it  ever  grasps 
firmly  the  mind  of  a  single  generation.  What  will 
become  of  honesty,  when  the  value  of  what  may  be 
had  by  theft  is  transcendental  ?  How  shall  armies  be 
persuaded  to  suffer  hardness,  and  populations  to  famish 
within  beleaguered  walls,  when  they  learn  that  "  man  is 
what  he  eats,"  so  that  his  very  essence  is  visibly  en- 
feebled, his  personality  starved  out,  as  he  grows  pale 
and  wasted  underneath  his  country's  flag?  In  vain 
shall  such  a  generation  strive  to  keep  alive  the  flame 
of  generous  self-devotion.  Self-devotion  seemed  to 
their  fathers  to  be  the  noblest  attainment;  to  them 
it  can  be  only  a  worn-out  form  of  speech  to  say  that 
the  soul  can  overcome  the  flesh.  For  to  them  the  man 
is  the  flesh ;  he  is  the  resultant  of  his  nourishment ; 
what  enters  into  the  mouth  makes  his  character,  for 
it  makes  him  all. 

There  is  that  within  us  all  which  knows  better; 
which  sets  against  the  aphorism,  "  Man  is  what  he 
eats;"  the  text  "  As  a  man  thinketh  in  his  heart  so  is 
he ; "  which  will  always  spurn  the  doctrine  of  the  brute, 
when  it  is  boldly  confronted  with  the  doctrine  of  the 
Crucified. 


Mark viL  24-30]     THE  CHILDREN  AND   THE  DOGS,       195 


THE  CHILDREN  AND   THE  DOGS. 

••And  from  thence  He  arose,  and  went  away  into  the  borders  <A 
Tyre  and  Sidon.  And  He  entered  into  a  house,  and  would  have  no 
man  know  it :  and  He  could  not  be  hid.  But  straightway  a  woman, 
whose  little  daughter  had  an  unclean  spirit,  having  heard  of  Him, 
came  and  fell  down  at  His  feet.  Now  the  woman  was  a  Greek,  a 
Syrophoenician  by  race.  And  she  besought  Him  that  He  would  cast 
forth  the  devil  out  of  her  daughter.  And  He  said  unto  her,  Let  the 
children  first  be  filled :  for  it  is  not  meet  to  take  the  children's  bread 
and  cast  it  to  the  dogs.  But  she  answered  and  saith  unto  Him,  Yea, 
Lord  :  even  the  dogs  under  the  table  eat  of  the  children's  crumbs. 
And  He  said  unto  her,  For  this  saying  go  thy  way  ;  the  devil  is  gone 
out  of  thy  daughter.  And  she  went  away  unto  her  house,  and  found 
the  child  laid  upon  the  bed,  and  the  devil  gone  out." — Mark  vii.  24-30 
(R.V.). 

The  ingratitude  and  perverseness  of  His  countrymen 
have  now  driven  Jesus  into  retirement  "  on  the  borders  " 
of  heathenism.  It  it  is  not  clear  that  He  has  yet  crossed 
the  frontier,  and  some  presumption  to  the  contrary  is 
found  in  the  statement  that  a  woman,  drawn  by  a  fame 
which  had  long  since  gone  throughout  all  Syria,  "  came 
out  of  those  borders  "  to  reach  Him.  She  was  not  only 
"a  Greek"  (by  language  or  by  creed  as  conjecture  may 
decide,  though  very  probably  the  word  means  little 
more  than  a  Gentile),  but  even  of  the  especially  accursed 
race  of  Canaan,  the  reprobate  of  reprobates.  And  yet 
the  prophet  Zechariah  had  foreseen  a  time  when  the 
Philistine  also  should  be  a  remnant  for  our  God,  and 
as  a  chieftain  in  Judah,  and  when  the  most  stubborn 
race  of  all  the  Canaanites  should  be  absorbed  in  Israel 
as  thoroughly  as  that  which  gave  Araunah  to  the  kind- 
liest intercourse  with  David,  for  Ekron  should  be  as  a 
Jebusite  (ix.  7).  But  the  hour  for  breaking  down  the 
middle  wall  of  partition  was  not  yet  fully  come.  Nor 
did  any  friend  plead  for  this  unhappy  woman,  that  she 


196  GOSPEL    OF  ST.   AJAR  A. 

loved  the  nation  and  had  built  a  synagogue;  nothing 
as  yet  lifted  her  above  the  dead  level  of  that  paganism 
to  which  Christ,  in  the  days  of  His  flesh  and  upon 
earth,  had  no  commission.  Even  the  great  champion 
and  apostle  of  the  Gentiles  confessed  that  his  Lord  was 
a  minister  of  the  circumcision  by  the  grace  of  God,  and 
it  was  by  His  ministry  to  the  Jews  that  the  Gentiles 
were  ultimately  to  be  won.  We  need  not  be  surprised 
therefore  at  His  silence  when  she  pleaded,  for  this 
might  well  be  calculated  to  elicit  some  expression  of 
faith,  something  to  separate  her  from  her  fellows,  and 
so  enable  Him  to  bless  her  without  breaking  down 
prematurely  all  distinctions.  Also  it  must  be  con- 
sidered that  nothing  could  more  offend  His  country- 
men than  to  grant  her  prayer,  while  as  yet  it  was 
impossible  to  hope  for  any  compensating  harvest  among 
her  fellows,  such  as  had  been  reaped  in  Samaria. 
What  is  surprising  is  the  apparent  harshness  of  expres- 
sion which  follows  that  silence,  when  even  His  disciples 
are  induced  to  intercede  for  her.  But  theirs  was  only 
the  softness  which  yields  to  clamour,  as  many  people  give 
alms,  not  to  silent  worth  but  to  loud  and  pertinacious 
importunity.  And  they  even  presumed  to  thow  their 
own  discomfort  into  the  scale,  and  urge  as  a  reason  for 
this  intercession,  that  she  crieth  after  us.  But  Jesus 
was  occupied  with  His  mission,  and  unwiUing  to  go 
farther  than  He  was  sent. 

In  her  agony  she  pressed  nearer  still  to  Him  when 
He  refused,  and  worshipped  Him,  no  longer  as  the  Son 
of  David,  since  what  was  Hebrew  in  His  commission 
made  against  her;  but  simply  appealed  to  His  com- 
passion, calling  Him  Lord.  The  absence  of  these 
details  from  St.  Mark's  narrative  is  interesting,  and 
shows  the  mistake  of  thinking  that  his  Gospel  is  simply 


Mark  vu.  24-30.]     THE   CHILDREN  AND   THE  DOGS.       197 

the  most  graphic  and  the  fullest.     It  is  such  when  our 
Lord  Himself  is  in  action ;  its  information  is  derived 
from  one  who  pondered  and  told  all  things,  not  as  they 
were  pictorial  in  themselves,  but  as  they  illustrated  the 
one  great  figure  of  the  Son  of  man.      And   so   the 
answer  of  Jesus  is  fully  given,  although  it  does  not 
appear  as  if  grace  were  poured  into  His  lips.     "  Let 
the  children  first  be  filled,  for  it  is  not  meet  to  take 
the  children's  bread,  and  to  cast  it  to  the  dogs."     It 
might   seem   that   sterner  words   could  scarcely  have 
been  spoken,  and  that  His  kindness  was  only  for  the 
Jews,  who  even  in  their  ingratitude  were  to  the  best 
of  the  Gentiles  as  children  compared  with  dogs.     Yet 
she  does  not  contradict  Him.     Neither  does  she  argue 
back, — for  the  words  '^  Truth,  Lord,   but  .  .  ."  have 
rightly  disappeared  from  the  Revised  Version,  and  with 
them  a  certain  contentious  aspect  which  they  give  to  her 
reply.     On  the  contrary  she  assents,  she  accepts  all  the 
seeming  severity  of  His  view,  because  her  penetrating 
faith  has  detected  its  kindly  undertone,  and  the  triple 
opportunity  which  it  offers  to  a  quick   and  confiding 
intelligence.     It  is  indeed  touching  to  reflect  how  im- 
pregnable was  Jesus  in  controversy  with  the  keenest 
intellects  of  Judaism,  with  how  sharp  a  weapon  He  rent 
their  snares,   and   retorted    their   arguments   to   their 
confusion,  and  then  to  observe  Him  inviting,  tempting, 
preparing  the  way  for  an  argument  which  would  lead 
Him,  gladly  won,  captive  to  a  heathen's  and  a  woman's 
importunate   and    trustful   sagacity.      It   is  the   same 
Divine  condescension  which  gave  to  Jacob   his   nev* 
name  of  Israel  because  he  had  striven  with  God  and 
prevailed. 

And  let  us  reverently  ponder  the  fact  that  this  pagan 
mother  of  a  demoniacal  child,  this  woman  whose  name 


198  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK. 

has  perished,  is  the  only  person  who  won  a  dialectical 
victory  in  striving  with  the  Wisdom  of  God  ;  such  a 
victory  as  a  father  allows  to  his  eager  child,  when  he 
raises  gentle  obstacles,  and  even  assumes  a  transparent 
mask  of  harshness,  but  never  passes  the  limit  of  the 
trust  and  love  which  he  is  probing. 

The  first  and  most  obvious  opportunity  which  He 
gives  to  her  is  nevertheless  hard  to  show  in  English. 
He  might  have  used  an  epithet  suitable  for  those  fierce 
creatures  which  prowl  through  Eastern  streets  at  night 
without  any  master,  living  upon  refuse,  a  peril  even  to 
men  who  are  unarmed.  But  Jesus  used  a  diminutive 
word,  not  found  elsewhere  in  the  New  Testament,  and 
quite  unsuitable  to  those  fierce  beasts,  a  word  "in 
which  the  idea  of  uncleanness  gives  place  to  that  of 
dependence,  of  belonging  to  man  and  to  the  family." 
No  one  applies  our  colloquial  epithet  "  doggie "  to  a 
fierce  or  rabid  brute.  Thus  Jesus  really  domesticated 
the  Gentile  world.  And  nobly,  eagerly,  yet  very 
modestly  she  used  this  tacit  concession,  when  she 
repeated  His  carefully  selected  word,  and  inferred  from 
it  that  her  place  was  not  among  those  vile  "  dogs " 
which  are  '^  without,"  but  with  the  domestic  dogs,  the 
little  dogs  underneath  the  table. 

Again,  she  observed  the  promise  which  lurked  under 
seeming  refusal,  when  He  said,  "  Let  the  children  first 
be  filled,"  and  so  implied  that  her  turn  should  come, 
that  it  was  only  a  question  of  time.  And  so  she 
answers  that  such  dogs  as  He  would  make  of  her  and 
hers  do  not  fast  utterly  until  their  mealtime  after  the 
children  have  been  satisfied  ;  they  wait  under  the  table, 
and  some  ungrudged  fragments  reach  them  there,  some 
"  crumbs." 

Moreover,  and  perhaps  chiefly,  the  bread  she  craves 


Mark  vii.  24-30.]     THE   CHILDREN  AND    THE  DOGS.       199 

need  not  be  torn  from  hungry  children.  Their  Bene- 
factor has  had  to  wander  off  into  concealment,  they  have 
let  fall,  unheeding,  not  only  crumbs,  although  her  noble 
tact  expresses  it  thus  lightly  to  their  countryman,  but 
fer  more  than  she  divined,  even  the  very  Bread  of  Life. 
Surely  His  own  illustration  has  admitted  her  right  to 
profit  by  the  heedlessness  of  "  the  children."  And  He 
had  admitted  all  this  :  He  had  meant  to  be  thus  overcome. 
One  loves  to  think  of  the  first  flush  of  hope  in  that 
trembling  mother's  heavy  heart,  as  she  discerned  His 
intention  and  said  within  herself,  "  Oh,  surely  I  am  not 
mistaken  ;  He  does  not  really  refuse  at  all ;  He  v/ills 
that  I  should  answer  Him  and  prevail."  One  supposes 
that  she  looked  up,  half  afraid  to  utter  the  great 
rejoinder,  and  took  courage  when  she  met  His  question- 
ing inviting  gaze. 

And  then  comes  the  glad  response,  no  longer  spoken 
coldly  and  without  an  epithet :  ^*  O  woman,  great  is  thy 
faith."  He  praises  not  her  adroitness  nor  her  humility, 
but  the  faith  which  would  not  doubt,  in  that  dark  hour, 
that  light  was  behind  the  cloud ;  and  so  He  sets  no 
other  limit  to  His  reward  than  the  Umit  of  her  desires  : 
"  Be  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt." 

Let  us  learn  that  no  case  is  too  desperate  for  prayer, 
and  perseverance  will  surely  find  at  last  that  our  Lord 
delighteth  to  be  gracious.  Let  us  be  certain  that  the 
brightest  and  most  confiding  view  of  all  His  dealings  is 
the  truest,  and  man,  if  only  he  trusts  aright,  shall  live 
by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God. 

Thus  did  Jesus  declare,  in  action  as  in  word,  the 
fading  out  of  all  distinction  between  the  ceremonially 
clean  and  unclean.  He  crossed  the  limits  of  the  Holy 
Land :  He  found  great  faith  in  a  daughter  of  the 
accursed  race ;    and   He  ratified  and  acted  upon    her 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK. 


claim  that  the  bread  which  fell  neglected  from  the  table 
of  the  Jew  was  not  forbidden  to  the  hunger  of  the 
Gentile.  The  history  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  is 
already  here  in  spirit. 


THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  MAN, 

"  And  again  He  went  out  from  the  borders  of  Tyre,  and  came  through 
Sidon  unto  the  sea  of  Galilee,  through  the  midst  of  the  borders  of 
Decapolis.  And  they  bring  unto  Him  one  that  was  deaf,  and  had  an 
impediment  in  his  speech ;  and  they  beseech  Him  to  lay  His  hand  upon 
him.  And  He  took  him  aside  from  the  multitude  privately,  and  put 
His  fingers  into  his  ears,  and  He  spat,  and  touched  His  tongue  j  and 
looking  up  to  heaven,  He  sighed,  and  saith  unto  him,  Ephphatha,  that 
is,  Be  opened.  And  his  ears  were  opened,  and  the  bond  of  his  tongue 
was  loosed,  and  he  spake  plain.  And  He  charged  them  that  they 
should  tell  no  man  :  but  the  more  He  charged  them,  so  much  the  more 
a  great  deal  they  published  it.  And  they  were  beyond  measure  as- 
tonished, saying,  He  hath  done  all  things  well :  He  maketh  even  the 
deaf  to  hear,  and  the  dumb  to  speak." — Mark  vii.  31-37  (R.V.). 

There  are  curious  and  significant  varieties  in  the  methods 
by  which  our  Saviour  healed.  We  have  seen  Him, 
when  watched  on  the  sabbath  by  eager  and  expectant 
foes,  baffling  all  their  maUce  by  a  miracle  without  a 
deed,  by  refusing  to  cross  the  Une  of  the  most  rigid 
and  ceremonial  orthodoxy,  by  only  commanding  an 
innocent  gesture.  Stretch  forth  thine  hand.  In  sharp 
contrast  with  such  a  miracle  is  the  one  which  we  have 
now  reached.  There  is  brought  to  Him  a  man  who  is 
deaf,  and  whose  speech  therefore  could  not  have  been 
more  than  a  babble,  since  it  is  by  hearing  that  we  learn 
to  articulate ;  but  of  whom  we  are  plainly  told  that  he 
suffered  from  organic  inability  to  utter  as  well  as  to 
hear,  for  he  had  an  impediment  in  his  speech,  the  string 
of  his  tongue  needed  to  be  loosed,  and  Jesus  touched 
his  tongue  as  well  as  his  ears,  to  heal  him. 


Mark  vii.  31-37.]     THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  MAN,  201 

It  should  be  observed  that  no  unbelieving  theory 
can  explain  the  change  in  our  Lord's  method.  Some 
pretend  that  all  the  stories  of  His  miracles  grew  up 
afterward,  from  the  sense  of  awe  with  which  He  was 
regarded.  How  does  that  agree  with  effort,  sighing, 
and  even  gradation  in  the  stages  of  recovery,  following 
after  the  most  easy,  astonishing  and  instantaneous 
cures?  Others  believe  that  the  enthusiasm  of  His 
teaching  and  the  charm  of  His  presence  conveyed  heal- 
ing efBcacy  to  the  impressible  and  the  nervous.  How 
does  this  account  for  the  fact  that  His  earliest  miracles 
were  the  prompt  and  effortless  ones,  and  as  time  passes 
on.  He  secludes  the  patient  and  uses  agencies,  as  if 
the  resistance  to  His  power  were  more  appreciable  ? 
Enthusiasm  would  gather  force  with  every  new  success. 

All  becomes  clear  when  we  accept  the  Christian 
doctrine.  Jesus  came  in  the  fulness  of  the  love  of  God, 
with  both  hands  filled  with  gifts.  On  His  part  there 
is  no  hesitation  and  no  limit.  But  on  the  part  of 
man  there  is  doubt,  misconception,  and  at  last  open 
hostility.  A  real  chasm  is  opened  between  man  and 
the  grace  He  gives,  so  that,  although  not  straitened  in 
Him,  they  are  straitened  in  their  own  affections.  Even 
while  they  believe  in  Him  as  a  healer,  they  no  longer 
accept  Him  as  their  Lord. 

And  Jesus  makes  it  plain  to  them  that  the  gift  is  no 
longer  so  easy,  spontaneous  and  of  public  right  as 
formerly.  In  His  own  country  He  could  not  do  many 
mighty  works.  And  now,  returning  by  indirect  routes, 
and  privately,  from  the  heathen  shores  whither  Jewish 
enmity  had  driven  Him,  He  will  make  the  multitude 
feel  a  kind  of  exclusion,  taking  the  patient  from  among 
them,  as  He  does  again  presently  in  Bethsaida  (chap.  viii. 
23).     There  is  also,  in  the  deliberate  act  of  seclusion 


202  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK. 

and  in  the  means  employed,  a  stimulus  for  the  faith  of 
the  sufferer,  which  would  scarcely  have  been  needed 
a  little  while  before. 

The  people  were  unconscious  of  any  reason  why  this 
cure  should  differ  from  former  ones.  And  so  they 
besought  Jesus  to  lay  His  hand  on  him,  the  usual  and 
natural  expression  for  a  conveyance  of  invisible  power. 
But  even  if  no  other  objection  had  existed,  this  action 
would  have  meant  little  to  the  deaf  and  dumb  man, 
living  in  a  silent  world,  and  needing  to  have  his  faith 
aroused  by  some  yet  plainer  sign.  Jesus  therefore 
removes  him  from  the  crowd  whose  curiosity  would 
distract  his  attention — even  as  by  affliction  and  pain  He 
still  isolates  each  of  us  at  times  from  the  world,  shutting 
us  up  with  God. 

He  speaks  the  only  language  intelligible  to  such  a 
man,  the  language  of  signs,  putting  His  fingers  into  his 
ears  as  if  to  break  a  seal,  conveying  the  moisture  of 
His  own  Up  to  the  silent  tongue,  as  if  to  impart  its 
faculty,  and  then,  at  what  should  have  been  the  exultant 
moment  of  conscious  and  triumphant  power,  He  sighed 
deeply. 

What  an  unexpected  revelation  of  the  man  rather 
than  the  wonder  worker.  How  unlike  anything  that 
theological  myth  or  heroic  legend  would  have  invented. 
Perhaps,  as  Keble  sings.  He  thought  of  those  moral 
defects  for  which,  in  a  responsible  universe,  no  miracle 
may  be  wrought,  of  "  the  deaf  heart,  the  dumb  by 
choice."  Perhaps,  according  to  Stier's  ingenious  guess, 
He  sighed  because,  in  our  sinful  world,  the  gift  of 
hearing  is  so  doubtful  a  blessing,  and  the  faculty  of 
speech  so  apt  to  be  perverted.  One  can  almost  imagine 
that  no  human  endowment  is  ever  given  by  Him  Who 
knows  all,  without  a  touch  of  sadness.     But  it  is  more 


Markvii.3i-37']     THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  MAN.  203 

natural  to  suppose  that  He  Who  is  touched  with  the 
feeling  of  our  infirmities,  and  Who  bare  our  sickness, 
thought  upon  the  countless  miseries  of  which  this  was 
but  a  specimen,  and  sighed  for  the  perverseness  by 
which  the  fulness  of  His  compassion  was  being  restrained. 
We  are  reminded  by  that  sigh,  however  we  explain  it, 
that  the  only  triumphs  which  made  Him  rejoice  in 
Spirit  were  very  different  from  displays  of  His  physici\l 
ascendancy. 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  that  St.  Mark,  informed 
by  the  most  ardent  and  impressible  of  the  apostles,  by 
him  who  reverted,  long  afterv^ards,  to  the  voice  which 
he  heard  in  the  holy  mount,  has  recorded  several  of 
the  Aramaic  words  which  Jesus  uttered  at  memorable 
junctures.  "  Ephphatha,  Be  opened,"  He  said,  and  the 
bond  of  his  tongue  was  loosed,  and  his  speech,  hitherto 
incoherent,  became  plain.  But  the  Gospel  which  tells 
us  the  first  word  he  heard  is  silent  about  what  he  said. 
Only  we  read,  and  this  is  suggestive  enough,  that  the 
command  was  at  once  given  to  him,  as  well  as  to  the 
bystanders,  to  keep  silent.  Not  copious  speech,  but 
wise  restraint,  is  what  the  tongue  needs  most  to  learn. 
To  him,  as  to  so  many  whom  Christ  had  healed,  the 
injunction  came,  not  to  preach  without  a  commission, 
not  to  suppose  that  great  blessings  require  loud  an- 
nouncement, or  unfit  men  for  lowly  and  quiet  places. 
Legend  would  surely  have  endowed  with  special 
eloquence  the  lips  which  Jesus  unsealed.  He  charged 
them  that  they  should  tell  no  man. 

It  was  a  double  miracle,  and  the  latent  unbelief  be- 
came clear  of  the  very  men  who  had  hoped  for  some 
measure  of  blessing.  For  they  were  beyond  measure 
astonished,  saying  He  doeth  all  things  well,  celebrating 
the  power  which  restored  the  hearing  and  the  speech 


i04  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 


together.  Do  we  blame  their  previous  incredulity? 
Perhaps  we  also  expect  some  blessing  from  our  Lord, 
yet  fail  to  bring  Him  all  we  have  and  all  we  are  for 
blessing.  Perhaps  we  should  be  astonished  beyond 
measure  if  we  received  at  the  hands  of  Jesus  a  sanc- 
tification  that  extended  to  all  our  powers. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  FOUR   ThOUSAND. 

*•  Tn  those  days,  when  there  was  again  a  great  mulatude,  and  they 
had  nothinjj  to  eat,  He  called  unto  Him  His  disciples,  and  saith  unto 
them,  I  have  compassion  on  the  multitude,  because  they  continue  with 
Me  now  three  days,  and  have  nothing  to  eat :  and  if  I  send  them  away 
fasting  to  their  home,  they  will  faint  in  the  way ;  and  some  of  them  are 
come  from  far.  And  His  disciples  answered  Him,  Whence  shall  one 
be  able  to  fill  these  men  with  bread  here  in  a  desert  place  ?  And  He 
asked  them,  How  many  loaves  have  ye?  And  they  said,  Seven.  And 
He  commandeth  the  multitude  to  sit  down  on  the  ground  :  und  He  took 
the  seven  loaves,  and  having  given  thanks.  He  brake,  and  gave  to  His 
disciples,  to  set  before  them  ;  and  they  set  them  before  the  multitude. 
And  they  had  a  few  small  fishes  :  and  having  blessed  them.  He  com- 
manded to  set  these  also  before  them.  And  they  did  eat,  and  were 
filled  :  and  they  took  up,  of  broken  pieces  that  remained  over,  seven 
baskets.  And  they  were  about  four  thousand  :  and  He  sent  them  away. 
And  straightway  He  entered  into  the  boat  with  His  disciples,  and 
came  into  the  parts  of  Dalmanutha." — Mark  viiL  i-io  (R.V.). 

WE  now  come  upon  a  miracle  strangely  similar  to 
that  of  the  Feeding  of  the  Five  Thousand.  And 
it  is  worth  while  to  ask  what  would  have  been  the 
result,  if  the  Gospels  which  contain  this  narrative  had 
omitted  the  former  one.  Scepticism  would  have  scruti- 
nized every  difference  between  the  two,  regarding  them 
as  variations  of  the  same  story,  to  discover  traces  of 
the  growth  of  the  myth  or  legend,  and  entirely  to  dis- 
credit it.  Now  however  it  is  plain  that  the  events  are 
quite  distinct ;  and  we  cannot  doubt  but  that  informa- 
tion as   full  would  clear  away  as  completely  many  a 


2o6  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

perplexity  which  still  entangles  us.  Archbishop  Trench 
has  well  shown  that  the  later  narrative  cannot  have 
grown  out  of  the  earlier,  because  it  has  not  grown  at 
all,  but  fallen  away.  A  new  legend  always  *'  outstrips 
the  old,  but  here  ...  the  numbers  fed  are  smaller, 
the  supply  of  food  is  greater,  and  the  fragments  that 
remain  are  fewer."  The  latter  point  is  however  doubt- 
ful. It  is  likely  that  the  baskets,  though  fewer,  were 
larger,  for  in  such  a  one  St.  Paul  was  lowered  down 
over  the  wall  of  Damascus  (Acts  ix.  25).  In  all  the 
Gospels  the  Greek  word  for  baskets  in  the  former 
miracle  is  different  from  the  latter.  And  hence  arises 
an  interesting  coincidence ;  for  when  the  disciples  had 
gone  into  a  desert  place,  and  there  gathered  the  frag- 
ments into  wallets,  each  of  them  naturally  carried  one 
of  these,  and  accordingly  twelve  were  filled.  But  here 
they  had  recourse  apparently  to  the  large  baskets  of 
persons  who  sold  bread,  and  the  number  seven  remains 
unaccounted  for.  Scepticism  indeed  persuades  itself 
that  the  whole  story  is  to  be  spiritualized,  the  twelve 
baskets  answering  to  the  twelve  apostles  who  distributed 
the  Bread  of  Life,  and  the  seven  to  the  seven  deacons. 
How  came  it  then  that  the  sorts  of  baskets  are  so  well 
discriminated,  that  the  inferior  ministers  are  represented 
by  the  larger  ones,  and  that  the  bread  is  not  dealt  out 
from  these  baskets  but  gathered  into  them  ? 

The  second  repetition  of  such  a  work  is  a  fine  proof 
of  that  genuine  kindness  of  heart,  to  which  a  miracle  is 
not  merely  an  evidence,  nor  rendered  useless  as  soon 
as  the  power  to  work  it  is  confessed.  Jesus  did  not 
shrink  from  thus  repeating  Himself,  even  upon  a  lower 
level,  because  His  object  was  not  spectacular  but 
beneficent.     He  sought  not  to  astonish  but  to  bless. 

It  is  plain  that  Jesus  strove  to  lead  His  disciples^ 


Markvri.  i-io.]        THE  FOUR  THOUSAND.  207 

aware  of  the  former  miracle,  up  to  the  notion  of  its 
repetition.  With  this  object  He  marshalled  all  the 
reasons  why  the  people  should  be  relieved.  "  I  have 
compassion  on  the  multitude,  because  they  continue 
with  Me  now  three  days,  and  have  nothing  to  eat :  and 
if  I  send  them  away  fasting  to  their  home,  they  will 
faint  in  the  way ;  and  some  of  them  are  come  from 
far."  It  is  the  grand  argument  from  human  necessity 
to  the  Divine  compassion.  It  is  an  argument  which 
ought  to  weigh  equally  with  the  Church.  For  if  it  is 
promised  that  ''  nothing  shall  be  impossible "  to  faith 
and  prayer,  then  the  deadly  wants  of  debauched  cities, 
of  ignorant  and  brutal  peasantries,  and  of  heathenisms 
festering  in  their  corruptions — all  these,  by  their  very 
urgency,  are  vehement  appeals  instead  of  the  dis- 
couragements we  take  them  for.  And  whenever  man 
is  baffled  and  in  need,  there  he  is  entitled  to  fall  back 
upon  the  resources  of  the  Omnipotent. 

It  may  be  that  the  disciples  had  some  glimmering 
hope,  but  they  did  not  venture  to  suggest  anything; 
they  only  asked,  Whence  shall  one  be  able  to  fill  these 
men  with  bread  here  in  a  desert  place  ?  It  is  the  cry 
of  unbelief — our  cry,  when  we  look  at  our  resources, 
and  declare  our  helplessness,  and  conclude  that  possibly 
God  may  interpose,  but  otherwise  nothing  can  be  done. 
We  ought  to  be  the  priests  of  a  famishing  world  (so 
ignorant  of  any  relief,  so  miserable),  its  interpreters  and 
intercessors,  full  of  hope  and  energy.  But  we  are 
content  to  look  at  our  empty  treasuries,  and  ineffective 
organizations,  and  to  ask.  Whence  shall  a  man  be  able 
to  fill  these  men  with  bread  ? 

They  have  ascertained  however  what  resources  are 
forthcoming,  and  these  He  proceeds  to  use,  first  de- 
manding the  faith  which  He  will  afterwards  honour, 


2o8  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 


by  bidding  the  multitudes  to  sit  down.  And  then  His 
loving  heart  is  gratified  by  relieving  the  hunger  which 
it  pitied,  and  He  promptly  sends  the  multitude  away, 
refreshed  and  competent  for  their  journey. 

THE  LEAVEN  OF  THE  PHARISEES. 

"  And  the  Pharisees  came  forth,  and  began  to  question  with  Him, 
seeking  of  Him  a  sign  from  heaven,  tempting  Him.  And  He  sighed 
deeply  in  His  spirit,  and  saith,  Why  doth  this  generation  seek  a  sign  ? 
verily  I  say  unto  you,  There  shall  no  sign  be  given  unto  this  generation. 
And  He  left  them,  and  again  entering  into  the  boat  departed  to  the 
other  side.  And  they  forgot  to  take  bread  ;  and  they  had  not  in  the 
boat  with  them  more  than  one  loaf.  And  He  charged  them,  saying. 
Take  heed,  beware  of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees  and  the  leaven  of 
Herod.  And  they  reasoned  one  with  another,  saying.  We  have  no 
bread.  And  Jesus  perceiving  it  saith  unto  them,  Why  reason  ye,  because 
ye  have  no  bread  ?  do  ye  not  yet  perceive,  neither  understand  ?  have  y 
your  heart  hardened  ?  Having  eyes,  see  ye  not  ?  and  having  ears,  heai 
ye  not  ?  and  do  ye  not  remember  ?  When  I  brake  the  five  loaves  among 
the  five  thousand,  how  many  baskets  full  of  broken  pieces  took  ye  up  ? 
They  said  unto  Him,  Twelve.  And  when  the  seven  among  the  four 
thousand,  how  many  basketfuls  of  broken  pieces  took  ye  up  ?  And  they 
said  unto  Him,  Seven.  And  He  said  unto  them,  Do  ye  not  yet  under- 
stand?"— Mark  viii,  11-21  (R.V.). 

Whenever  a  miracle  produced  a  deep  and  special 
impression,  the  Pharisees  strove  to  spoil  its  effect  by 
some  counter-demonstration.  By  so  doing,  and  at  least 
appearing  to  hold  the  field,  since  Jesus  always  yielded 
this  to  them,  they  encouraged  their  own  faction,  and 
shook  the  confidence  of  the  feeble  and  hesitating 
multitude.  At  almost  every  crisis  they  might  have 
been  crushed  by  an  appeal  to  the  stormy  passions  of 
those  whom  the  Lord  had  blessed.  Once  He  might 
have  been  made  a  king.  Again  and  again  His  ienemies 
were  conscious  that  an  imprudent  word  would  suffice 
to  make  the  people  stone  them.  But  that  would  have 
spoiled  the  real  work   of  Jesus  more  than   to  retreat 


Markviii.  ii-2i.]     THE  LEAVEN  OF  THE  PHARISEES.     209 

before  them,  now  across  the  lake,  or,  just  before, 
into  the  coasts  of  Tyre  and  Sidon.  Doubtless  it  was 
this  constant  avoidance  of  physical  conflict,  this  habitual 
repression  of  the  carnal  zeal  of  His  supporters,  this 
refusal  to  form  a  party  instead  of  founding  a  Church, 
which  renewed  incessantly  the  courage  of  His  often- 
baffled  foes,  and  led  Him,  by  the  path  of  steady  cease- 
less self-depression,  to  the  cross  which  He  foresaw, 
even  while  maintaining  His  unearthly  calm,  amid  the 
contradiction  of  sinners  against  Himself. 

Upon  the  feeding  of  the  four  thousand,  they  demand 
of  Him  a  sign  from  heaven.  He  had  wrought  for  the 
public  no  miracle  of  this  peculiar  kind.  And  yet 
Moses  had  gone  up,  in  the  sight  of  all  Israel,  to  com- 
mune with  God  in  the  mount  that  burned ;  Samuel  had 
been  answered  by  thunder  and  rain  in  the  wheat 
harvest ;  and  Elijah  had  called  down  fire  both  upon  his 
sacrifice  and  also  upon  two  captains  and  their  bands  of 
fifty.  Such  a  miracle  was  now  declared  to  be  the  regular 
authentication  of  a  messenger  from  God,  and  the  only 
sign  which  evil  spirits  could  not  counterfeit. 

Moreover  the  demand  would  specially  embarrass 
Jesus,  because  He  alone  was  not  accustomed  to  invoke 
heaven  :  His  miracles  were  wrought  by  the  exertion 
of  His  own  will.  And  perhaps  the  challenge  implied 
some  understanding  of  what  this  peculiarity  involved, 
such  as  Jesus  charged  them  with,  when  putting  into 
their  mouth  the  words,  This  is  the  heir,  come,  let  us 
kill  Him.  Certainly  the  demand  ignored  much.  Con- 
ceding the  fact  of  certain  miracles,  and  yet  imposing 
new  conditions  of  belief,  they  shut  their  eyes  to  the 
unique  nature  of  the  works  already  wrought,  the  glory 
as  of  the  Only-begotten  of  the  Father  which  they 
displayed.     They  held  that  thunder  and  lightning  re- 

X4 


210  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

vealed  God  more  certainly  than  supernatural  victories 
of  compassion,  tenderness  and  love.  What  could  be 
done  for  moral  blindness  such  as  this  ?  How  could 
any  sign  be  devised  which  unwilling  hearts  would  not 
evade  ?  No  wonder  that  hearing  this  demand,  Jesus 
sighed  deeply  in  His  spirit.  It  revealed  their  utter 
hardness ;  it  was  a  snare  by  which  others  would  be 
entangled  ;   and  for  Himself  it  foretold  the  cross. 

St.  Mark  simply  tells  us  that  He  refused  to  give  them 
any  sign.  In  St.  Matthew  He  justifies  this  decision 
by  rebuking  the  moral  blindness  which  demanded  it. 
They  had  material  enough  for  judgment.  The  face  of 
the  sky  foretold  storm  and  fair  weather,  and  the  pro- 
cess of  nature  could  be  anticipated  without  miracles  to 
coerce  belief.  And  thus  they  should  have  discerned 
the  import  of  the  prophecies,  the  course  of  history, 
the  signs  of  the  times  in  which  they  lived,  so  plainly 
radiant  with  Messianic  promise,  so  menacing  with 
storm-clouds  of  vengeance  upon  sin.  The  sign  was 
refused  moreover  to  an  evil  and  adulterous  generation, 
as  God,  in  the  Old  Testament,  would  not  be  inquired 
of  at  all  by  such  a  people  as  this.  This  indignant 
rejoinder  St.  Mark  has  compressed  into  the  words, 
^*  There  shall  no  sign  be  given  unto  this  generation  " 
— this  which  has  proof  enough,  and  which  deserv^es 
none.  Men  there  were  to  whom  a  sign  from  heaven 
was  not  refused.  At  His  baptism,  on  the  Mount  of 
Transfiguration,  and  when  the  Voice  answered  His 
appeal,  "  Father,  glorify  Thy  name,"  while  the  multitude 
said  only  that  it  thundered — at  these  times  His  chosen 
ones  received  a  sign  from  heaven.  But  from  those 
who  had  not  was  taken  away  even  that  which  they 
seemed  to  have;  and  the  sign  of  Jonah  availed  them  not. 

Once  more  Jesus  "  left  them  "  and  crossed  the  lake. 


Markviii.li-2i.]     THE  LEAVEN  OF  THE  FHARJSEES.     211 

The  disciples  found  themselves  with  but  one  loaf, 
approaching  a  wilder  district,  where  the  ceremonial 
purity  of  food  could  not  easily  be  ascertained.  But 
they  had  already  acted  on  the  principle  which  Jesus 
had  formally  proclaimed,  that  all  meats  were  clean. 
And  therefore  it  was  not  too  much  to  expect  them  to 
penetrate  below  the  letter  of  the  words,  "  Take  heed, 
beware  of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees,  and  the  leaven 
of  Herod,"  In  giving  them  this  enigma  to  discover, 
He  acted  according  to  His  usage,  wrapping  the 
spiritual  truth  in  earthly  phrases,  picturesque  and 
impressive ;  and  He  treated  them  as  life  treats  every 
one  of  us,  which  keeps  our  responsibility  still  upon  the 
strain,  by  presenting  new  moral  problems,  fresh  ques- 
tions and  trials  of  insight,  for  every  added  attainment 
which  lays  our  old  tasks  aside.  But  they  understood 
Him  not.  Some  new  ceremonial  appeared  to  them  to 
be  designed,  in  which  everything  would  be  reversed, 
and  the  unclean  should  be  those  hypocrites,  the 
strictest  observers  of  the  old  code.  Such  a  mistake, 
however  blameworthy,  reveals  the  profound  sense 
of  an  ever-widening  chasm,  and  an  expectation  of 
a  final  and  hopeless  rupture  with  the  chiefs  of  their 
religion.  It  prepares  us  for  what  is  soon  to  come,  the 
contrast  between  the  popular  belief  and  theirs,  and  the 
selection  of  a  rock  on  which  a  new  Church  is  to  be 
built.  In  the  meantime  the  dire  practical  inconveni- 
ence of  this  announcement  led  to  hot  discussion,  be- 
cause they  had  no  bread.  And  Jesus,  perceiving  this, 
remonstrated  in  a  series  of  indignant  questions.  Per- 
sonal want  should  not  have  disturbed  their  judgment, 
remembering  that  twice  over  He  had  fed  hungry 
multitudes,  and  loaded  them  with  the  surplus  of  His 
gift.     Their  eyes  and  ears  should  have  taught  them 


2ia  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK, 

that  He  was  indifferent  to  such  distinctions,  and  His 
doctrine  could  never  result  in  a  new  Judaism.  How 
was  it  that  they  did  not  understand  ? 

Thereupon  they  perceived  that  His  warning  was 
figurative.  He  had  spoken  to  them,  after  feeding  the 
five  thousand,  of  spiritual  bread  which  He  would  give, 
even  His  flesh  to  be  their  food.  What  then  could  He 
have  meant  by  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees  but  the 
imparting  of  their  religious  tendencies,  their  teaching, 
and  their  insincerity  ? 

Was  there  any  real  danger  that  these,  His  chosen 
ones,  should  be  shaken  by  the  demand  for  a  sign  from 
heaven  ?  Did  not  Philip  presently,  when  Christ  spoke 
of  seeing  the  Father,  eagerly  cry  out  that  this,  if  it 
were  granted,  would  suffice  them  ?  In  these  words  he 
confessed  the  misgiving  which  haunted  their  minds,  and 
the  longing  for  a  heavenly  sign.  And  yet  the  essence  of 
the  vision  of  God  was  in  the  life  and  the  love  which 
they  had  failed  to  know.  If  they  could  not  see  Him 
in  these,  He  must  for  ever  remain  invisible  to  them. 

We  too  require  the  same  caution.  When  we  long 
for  miracles,  neglecting  those  standing  miracles  of  our 
faith,  the  gospel  and  the  Church  :  when  our  reason  is 
satisfied  of  a  doctrine  or  a  duty,  and  yet  we  remain 
irresolute,  sighing  for  the  impulse  of  some  rare  spiritual 
enlightenment  or  excitement,  for  a  revival,  or  a  mission, 
or  an  oration  to  lift  us  above  ourselves,  we  are  virtu- 
ally asking  to  be  shown  what  we  already  confess,  to 
behold  a  sign,  while  we  possess  the  evidence. 

And  the  only  wisdom  of  the  languid,  irresolute  will, 
which  postpones  action  in  hope  that  feeling  may  be 
deepened,  is  to  pray.  It  is  by  the  effort  of  communion 
with  the  unfelt,  but  confessed  Reality  above  us,  that 
healthy  feeling  is  to  be  recovered. 


Mark  viii.  22-26.]  MEN  AS   TREES.  aij 


MEN  AS  TREES. 

"  And  they  come  unto  Bethsaida.  And  they  bring  to  Him  a  blind 
man,  and  beseech  Him  to  touch  him.  And  He  took  hold  of  the  blind 
man  by  the  hand,  and  brought  him  out  of  the  village ;  and  when  He 
had  spit  on  his  eyes,  and  laid  His  hands  upon  him,  He  asked  him, 
Seest  thou  aught  ?  And  he  looked  up,  and  said,  I  see  men  ;  for  I 
behold  them  as  trees,  walking.  Then  again  He  laid  His  hands  upon 
his  eyes;  and  he  looked  stedfas;ly,  and  was  restored,  and  saw  all 
things  clearly.  And  He  sent  him  away  to  his  home,  sayings  Do  not 
even  enter  into  the  village." — Mark  viii.  22-26  (R.V.). 

When  the  disciples  arrived  at  Bethsaida,  they  were  met 
by  the  friends  of  a  blind  man,  who  besought  Him  to 
touch  him.  And  this  gave  occasion  to  the  most  remark- 
able by  far  of  all  the  progressive  and  tentative  miracles, 
in  which  means  were  employed,  and  the  result  was 
gradually  reached.  The  reasons  for  advancing  to  this 
cure  by  progressive  stages  have  been  much  discussed. 
St.  Chrysostom  and  many  others  have  conjectured  that 
the  blind  man  had  but  little  faith,  since  he  neither 
found  his  own  way  to  Jesus,  nor  pleaded  his  own 
cause,  like  Bartimaeus.  Others  brought  him,  and 
interceded  for  him.  This  may  be  so,  but  since  he  was 
clearly  a  consenting  party,  we  can  infer  little  from 
details  which  constitutional  timidity  would  explain,  or 
helplessness  (for  the  resources  of  the  blind  are  very 
various),  or  the  zeal  of  friends  or  of  paid  servants,  or 
the  mere  eagerness  of  a  crowd,  pushing  him  forward 
in  desire  to  see  a  marvel. 

We  cannot  exoect  always  to  penetrate  the  motives 
which  varied  our  Saviour's  mode  of  action ;  it  is 
enough  that  we  can  pretty  clearly  discern  some  prin^ 
ciples  which  led  to  their  variety.  Many  of  them, 
including  all  the  greatest,  were  wrought  without 
instrumentality  and  without   delay,   showing  His  un- 


214  GOSPEL    OF  ST.   MARK. 

restricted  and  underived  power.  Others  were  gradual, 
and  wrought  by  means.  These  connected  His  "signs" 
with  nature  and  the  God  of  nature  ;  and  they  could 
be  so  watched  as  to  silence  many  a  cavil ;  and  they 
exhibited,  by  the  very  disproportion  of  the  means,  the 
grandeur  of  the  Worker.  In  this  respect  the  successive 
stages  of  a  miracle  were  like  the  subdivisions  by  which 
a  skilful  architect  increases  the  effect  of  a  facade  or 
an  interior.  In  every  case  the  means  employed  were 
such  as  to  connect  the  result  most  intimately  with  the 
person  as  well  as  the  will  of  Christ. 

It  must  be  repeated  also,  that  the  need  of  secondary 
agents  shows  itself,  only  as  the  increasing  wilfulness  of 
Israel  separates  between  Christ  and  the  people.  It  is 
as  if  the  first  rush  of  generous  and  spontaneous  power 
had  been  frozen  by  the  chill  of  their  ingratitude. 

Jesus  again,  as  when  healing  the  deaf  and  dumb, 
withdraws  from  idle  curiosity.  And  we  read,  what  is 
very  impressive  when  we  remember  that  any  of  the 
disciples  could  have  been  bidden  to  lead  the  Wind  man, 
that  Jesus  Himself  drew  Him  by  the  hand  out  of  the 
village.  What  would  have  been  affectation  in  other 
cases  was  a  graceful  courtesy  to  the  blind.  And  it  re- 
veals to  us  the  hearty  human  benignity  and  condescension 
of  Him  Whom  to  see  was  to  see  the  Father,  that  He 
should  have  clasped  in  His  helpful  hand  the  hand  of  a 
blind  suppliant  for  His  grace.  Moistening  his  eyes 
from  His  own  lips,  and  laying  His  hands  upon  him,  so 
as  to  convey  the  utmost  assurance  of  power  actually 
exerted,  He  asked,  Seest  thou  aught  ? 

The  answer  is  very  striking  :  it  is  such  as  the  know- 
ledge of  that  day  could  scarcely  have  imagined ;  and 
yet  it  is  in  the  closest  accord  with  later  scientific 
discovery.     What  we  call  the  act  of  vision  is  really  a 


Murk  viii.  22-26.]  MEN  AS   TREES.  215 

two-fold  process ;  there  is  in  it  the  report  of  the  nerves 
to  the  brain,  and  also  an  inference,  drawn  by  the  mind, 
which  previous  experience  has  educated  to  understand 
what  that  report  implies.  For  want  of  such  experience, 
an  infant  thinks  the  moon  as  near  him  as  the  lamp,  and 
reaches  out  for  it.  And  when  Christian  science  does 
its  Master's  work  by  opening  the  eyes  of  men  who 
have  been  born  blind,  they  do  not  know  at  first  what 
appearances  belong  to  globes  and  what  to  flat  and 
square  objects.  It  is  certain  that  every  image  conveyed 
to  the  brain  reaches  it  upside  down,  and  is  corrected 
there.  When  Jesus  then  restored  a  blind  man  to  the 
perfect  enjoyment  of  effective  intelligent  vision,  He 
wrought  a  double  miracle ;  one  which  instructed  the 
intelligence  of  the  blind  man  as  well  as  opened  his 
eyes.  This  was  utterly  unknown  to  that  age.  But  the 
scepticism  of  our  century  would  complain  that  to  open 
the  eyes  was  not  enough,  and  that  such  a  miracle 
would  have  left  the  man  perplexed;  and  it  would  refuse  to 
accept  narratives  which  took  no  account  of  this  difficulty, 
but  that  the  cavil  is  anticipated.  The  miracle  now  be- 
fore us  refutes  it  in  advance,  for  it  recognises,  what  no 
spectator  and  no  early  reader  of  the  marvel  could  have 
understood,  the  middle  stage,  when  sight  is  gained  but 
is  still  uncomprehended  and  ineffective.  The  process 
is  shown  as  well  as  the  completed  work.  Only  by  their 
motion  could  he  at  first  distinguish  living  creatures 
from  lifeless  things  of  far  greater  bulk.  "  He  looked 
up,"  (mark  this  picturesque  detail,)  "  and  said,  I  see 
men ;  for  I  behold  them  as  trees,  walking." 

But  Jesus  leaves  no  unfinished  work  :  "  Then  again 
laid  He  His  hands  upon  his  eyes,  and  he  looked  sted- 
fastly,  and  was  restored,  and  saw  all  things  clearly." 

In  this  narrative  there  is  a  deep  significance.     That 


H6  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

vision,  forfeited  until  grace  restores  it,  by  which  we 
look  at  the  things  which  are  not  seen,  is  not  always 
quite  restored  at  once.  We  are  conscious  of  great  per- 
plexity, obscurity  and  confusion.  But  a  real  work  of 
Christ  may  have  begun  amid  much  that  is  imperfect, 
much  that  is  even  erroneous.  And  the  path  of  the  just 
is  often  a  haze  and  twilight  at  the  first,  yet  is  its  light 
real,  and  one  that  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the 
perfect  day. 

THE    CONFESSION  AND    THE    WARNING, 

"  And  Jesus  went  forth,  and  His  disciples,  into  the  villages  of 
Csesarea  Philippi :  and  in  the  way  He  asked  His  disciples,  saying  unto 
them,  Who  do  men  say  that  I  am  ?  And  they  told  Him,  saying,  John 
the  Baptist  :  and  others,  Elijah  ;  but  others,  One  of  the  prophets. 
And  He  asked  them,  But  Who  say  ye  that  I  am  ?  Peter  answereth 
and  saith  unto  Him,  Thou  art  the  Christ.  And  He  charged  them  that 
they  should  tell  no  man  of  Him.  And  He  began  to  teach  them,  that 
the  Son  of  man  must  suffer  many  things,  and  be  rejected  by  the  elders, 
and  the  chief  priests,  and  the  scribes,  and  be  killed,  and  after  three  dajrs 
rise  again.  And  He  spake  the  saying  openly." — Mark  viii.  27-33 
(R.V.). 

We  have  now  reached  an  important  stage  in  the 
Gospel  narrative,  the  comparative  withdrawal  from 
evangelistic  effort,  and  the  preparation  of  the  disciples 
for  an  approaching  tragedy.  We  find  them  in  the 
wild  country  to  the  north  of  the  Lake  of  Galilee,  and 
even  as  far  withdrawn  as  to  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
sources  of  the  Jordan.  Not  without  a  deliberate  in- 
tention has  Jesus  led  them  thither.  He  wishes  them 
to  realise  their  separation.  He  will  fix  upon  their 
consciousness  the  failure  of  the  world  to  comprehend 
Him,  and  give  them  the  opportunity  either  to  acknow- 
ledge Him,  or  sink  back  to  the  lower  level  of  the  crowd 
This  is  what  interests  St.  Mark ;  and  it  is  worthy  of 


Mark  viii.  27.32.]     CONFESSION  AND    WARNING.  a« 

notice  that  he,  the  friend  of  Peter,  mentions  not  th« 
special  lionour  bestowed  upon  him  by  Christ,  nor  the 
first  utterance  of  the  memorable  words  "  My  Church." 

"  Who  do  men  say  that  I  am  ?  "  Jesus  asked.  The 
answer  would  tell  of  acceptance  or  rejection,  the 
success  or  failure  of  His  ministry,  regarded  in  itself, 
and  apart  from  ultimate  issues  unknown  to  mortals. 
From  this  point  of  view  it  had  very  plainly  failed.  At 
the  beginning  there  was  a  clear  hope  that  this  was 
He  that  should  come,  the  Son  of  David,  the  Holy  One 
of  God.  But  now  the  pitch  of  men's  expectation  was 
lowered.  Some  said,  John  the  Baptist,  risen  from  the 
dead,  as  Herod  feared ;  others  spoke  of  Elijah,  who 
was  to  come  before  the  great  and  notable  day  of  the 
Lord ;  in  the  sadness  of  His  later  days  some  had 
begun  to  see  a  resemblance  to  Jeremiah,  lamenting  the 
ruin  of  his  nation  ;  and  others  fancied  a  resemblance  to 
various  of  the  prophets.  Beyond  this  the  apostles  con- 
fessed that  men  were  not  known  to  go.  Their  enthusi- 
asm had  cooled,  almost  as  rapidly  as  in  the  triumphal 
procession,  where  they  who  blessed  both  Him,  and 
"the  kingdom  that  cometh,"  no  sooner  felt  the  chill 
of  contact  with  the  priestly  faction,  than  their  con- 
fession dwindled  into  ''This  is  Jesus,  the  prophet  of 
Nazareth."  "  But  Who  say  ye  that  I  am  ? "  He 
added ;  and  it  depended  on  the  answer  whether  or  not 
there  should  prove  to  be  any  solid  foundation,  any 
rock,  on  which  to  build  His  Church.  Much  difference, 
much  error  may  be  tolerated  there,  but  on  one  subject 
there  must  be  no  hesitation.  To  make  Him  only  a 
prophet  among  others,  to  honour  Him  even  as  the  first 
among  the  teachers  of  mankind,  is  to  empty  His  life 
of  its  meaning,  His  death  of  its  efficacy,  and  His 
Church  of  its  authority.     And  yet  the  danger  was  real, 


ii8  _  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

as  we  may  see  by  the  fervent  blessing  (unrecorded  in 
our  Gospel)  which  the  right  answer  won.  For  it  was 
no  longer  the  bright  morning  of  His  career,  when  all 
bare  Him  witness  and  wondered ;  the  noon  was  over 
now,  and  the  evening  shadows  were  heavy  and  lower- 
ing. To  confess  Him  then  was  to  have  learned  what 
flesh  and  blood  could  not  reveal. 

But  Peter  did  not  hesitate.  In  answer  to  the 
question,  "  Who  say  ye  ?  Is  your  judgment  like  the 
the  world's?"  He  does  not  reply,  ''We  believe,  we 
say,"  but  with  all  the  vigour  of  a  mind  at  rest,  "  Thou 
art  the  Christ ; "  that  is  not  even  a  subject  of  discus- 
sion :  the  fact  is  so. 

Here  one  pauses  to  admire  the  spirit  of  the  disciples, 
so  unjustly  treated  in  popular  exposition  because  they 
were  but  human,  because  there  were  dangers  which 
could  appal  them,  and  because  the  course  of  providence 
was  designed  to  teach  them  how  weak  is  the  loftiest 
human  virtue.  Nevertheless,  they  could  part  company 
with  all  they  had  been  taught  to  reverence  and  with 
the  unanimous  opinion  of  their  native  land,  they  could 
watch  the  slow  fading  out  of  public  enthusiasm,  and 
continue  faithful,  because  they  knew  and  revered  the 
Divine  life,  and  the  glory  which  was  hidden  from  the 
wise  and  prudent. 

The  confession  of  Peter  is  variously  stated  in  the 
Gospels.  St.  Matthew  wrote  for  Jews,  familiar  with 
the  notion  of  a  merely  human  Christ,  and  St.  Luke 
for  mixed  Churches.  Therefore  the  first  Gospel  gives 
the  expHcit  avowal  not  only  of  Messiahship,  but  of 
divinity;  and  the  third  Gospel  implies  this.  ''Thou 
art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God " — "  the 
Christ  of  God."  But  St.  Mark  wrote  for  Gentiles, 
whose  first  and  only  notion  of  the  Messiah  was  derived 


Mark  viii.  27-32.]     CONFESSION  AND    WARNING,  219 


from  Christian  sources,  and  steeped  in  Christian  attri- 
butes, so  that,  for  their  inteIHgence,  all  the  great  avowal 
was  implied  in  the  title  itself,  Thou  art  the  Christ.  Yet 
it  is  instructive  to  see  men  insisting  on  the  difference, 
and  even  exaggerating  it,  who  know  that  this  Gospel 
opens  with  an  assertion  of  the  Divine  sonship  of  Jesus, 
and  whose  theory  is  that  its  author  worked  with  the 
Gospel  of  St.  Matthew  before  his  eyes.  How  then, 
or  why,  do  they  suppose  the  confession  to  have  been 
weakened  ? 

This  foundation  of  His  Church  being  secured.  His 
Divine  Messiahship  being  confessed  in  the  face  of  an 
unbeHeving  world,  Jesus  lost  no  time  in  leading  His 
apostles  forward.  They  were  forbidden  to  tell  any 
man  of  Him :  the  vain  hope  was  to  be  absolutely 
suppressed  of  winning  the  people  to  confess  their  king. 
The  effort  w^ould  only  make  it  harder  for  themselves 
to  accept  that  stern  truth  which  they  were  now  to 
learn,  that  His  matchless  royalty  was  to  be  won  by 
matchless  suffering.  Never  hitherto  had  Jesus  pro- 
claimed this  truth,  as  He  now  did,  in  so  many  words. 
It  had  been,  indeed,  the  secret  spring  of  many  of  His 
sayings ;  and  we  ought  to  mark  what  loving  ingenuity 
was  lavished  upon  the  task  of  gradually  preparing 
them  for  the  dread  shock  of  this  announcement.  The 
Bridegroom  was  to  be  taken  away  from  them,  and 
then  they  should  fast.  The  temple  of  His  body  should 
be  destroyed,  and  in  three  days  reared  again.  The 
blood  of  all  the  slaughtered  prophets  was  to  come 
upon  this  generation.  It  should  suffice  them  when 
persecuted  unto  death,  that  the  disciple  was  as  His 
Master.  It  was  still  a  plainer  intimation  when  He 
said,  that  to  follow  Him  was  to  take  up  a  cross.  His 
flesh  was  promised  to  them  for  meat  and   His  blood 


t20  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK 

for  drink.  (Chap.  ii.  20;  John  ii.  19;  Luke  xi.  50  # 
Matt.  X.  21,  25  ;  38 ;  John  vi.  54.)  Such  intima* 
tions  Jesus  had  already  given  them,  and  doubt- 
less many  a  cold  shadow,  many  a  dire  misgiving 
had  crept  over  their  sunny  hopes.  But  these  it  had 
been  possible  to  explain  away,  and  the  effort,  the 
attitude  of  mental  antagonism  thus  forced  upon  them, 
would  make  the  grief  more  bitter,  the  gloom  more 
deadly,  when  Jesus  spoke  openly  the  saying,  thence- 
forth so  frequently  repeated,  that  He  must  suffer 
keenly,  be  rejected  formally  by  the  chiefs  of  His 
creed  and  nation,  and  be  killed.  When  He  recurs 
to  the  subject  (ix.  31),  He  adds  the  horror  of  being 
^'delivered  into  the  hands  of  men."  In  the  tenth 
chapter  we  find  Him  setting  His  face  toward  the  city 
outside  which  a  prophet  could  not  perish,  with  such 
fixed  purpose  and  awful  consecration  in  His  bearing 
that  His  followers  were  amazed  and  afraid.  And 
then  He  reveals  the  complicity  of  the  Gentiles,  who 
shall  mock  and  spit  upon  and  scourge  and  kill  Him. 

But  in  every  case,  without  exception.  He  announced 
that  on  the  third  day  He  should  arise  again.  For 
neither  was  He  Himself  sustained  by  a  sullen  and 
stoical  submission  to  the  worst,  nor  did  He  seek  so 
to  instruct  His  followers.  It  was  for  the  joy  that  was 
set  before  Him  that  He  endured  the  cross.  And  all 
the  faithful  who  suffer  with  Him  shall  also  reign 
together  with  Him,  and  are  instructed  to  press 
toward  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  their  high  calling. 
For  we  are  saved  by  hope. 

But  now,  contrast  with  the  utmost  courage  of  the 
martyrs,  who  braved  the  worst,  when  it  emerged  at 
the  last  suddenly  from  the  veil  which  mercifully  hides 
our   future,    and   which   hope   can    always   gild   with 


Markviii  32-ix.i.]       THE  REBUKE   OF  PETER,  221 

Starry  pictures,  thio  courage  that  looked  steadily 
forward,  disguising  nothing,  hoping  for  no  escape, 
living  through  all  the  agony  so  long  before  it  came, 
seeing  His  wounds  in  the  breaking  of  bread,  and  His 
blood  when  wine  was  poured.  Consider  how  marvel- 
lous was  the  love,  which  met  with  no  real  sympathy, 
nor  even  comprehension,  as  He  spoke  such  dreadful 
words,  and  forced  Himself  to  repeat  what  must  have 
shaken  the  barb  He  carried  in  His  heart,  that  by- 
and-by  His  followers  might  be  somewhat  helped  by 
remembering  that  He  had  told  them. 

And  yet  again,  consider  how  immediately  the  doctrine 
of  His  suffering  follows  upon  the  confession  of  His 
Chnstnood,  and  judge  whether  the  crucifixion  was 
merely  a  painful  incident,  the  sad  close  of  a  noble 
life  and  a  pure  ministry,  or  in  itself  a  necessary  and 
cardinal  event,  fraught  with  transcendent  issues. 

THE  REBUKE   OF  PETER. 

"And  He  spake  the  saying  openly.  And  Peter  took  Him,  and 
began  to  rebuke  Him."  ..."  And  He  said  unto  them,  Verily  I  say  unto 
you,  There  be  some  here  of  them  that  stand  by,  which  shall  in  no 
wise  taste  of  death,  till  they  see  the  kingdom  of  God  come  with 
power." — Mark  viii.  32-ix.  i  (R.V.). 

The  doctrine  of  a  suffering  Messiah  was  strange  in  the 
time  of  Jesus.  And  to  the  warm-hearted  apostle  the 
announcement  that  his  beloved  Master  should  endure  a 
shameful  death  was  keenly  painful.  Moreover,  what 
had  just  passed  made  it  specially  unwelcome  then. 
Jesus  had  accepted  and  applauded  a  confession  which 
implied  all  honour.  He  had  promised  to  build  a  new 
Church  upon  a  rock ;  and  claimed,  as  His  to  give  away, 
the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Hopes  were  thus 
excited  which  could  not  brook  His  stern  repression  ; 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK^ 


and  the  career  which  the  apostle  promised  himself 
was  very  unlike  that  defence  of  a  lost  cause,  and  a 
persecuted  and  martyred  leader,  which  now  threatened 
him.  The  rebuke  of  Jesus  clearly  warns  Peter,  that  he 
had  miscalculated  his  own  prospect  as  well  as  that  of 
his  Lord,  and  that  he  must  prepare  for  the  burden  of  a 
cross.  Above  all,  it  is  plain  that  Peter  was  intoxicated 
by  the  great  position  just  assigned  to  him,  and  allowed 
himself  an  utterly  strange  freedom  of  interference  with 
his  Master's  plans.  He  "  took  Him  and  began  to 
rebuke  Him,"  evidently  drawing  Him  aside  for  the 
purpose,  since  Jesus  "  turned  about "  in  order  to  see 
the  disciples  whom  He  had  just  addressed.  Thus  our 
narrative  implies  that  commission  of  the  keys  to  him 
which  it  omits  to  mention,  and  we  learn  how  absurd  is 
the  infidel  contention  that  each  evangelist  was  ignorant 
of  all  that  he  did  not  record.  Did  the  appeal  against 
those  gloomy  forebodings  of  Jesus,  the  protest  that 
such  evil  must  not  be,  the  refusal  to  recognise  a 
prophecy  in  His  fears,  awaken  any  answer  in  the 
sinless  heart  ?  Sympathy  was  not  there,  nor  approval, 
nor  any  shade  of  readiness  to  yield.  But  innocent 
human  desire  for  escape,  the  love  of  life,  horror  of  His 
fate,  more  intense  as  it  vibrated  in  the  apostle's  shaken 
voice,  these  He  assuredly  felt.  For  He  tells  us  in  so 
many  words  that  Peter  was  a  stumbling-block  to  Him, 
although  He,  walking  in  the  clear  day,  stumbled  not. 
Jesus,  let  us  repeat  it  again  and  again,  endured  not 
like  a  Stoic,  deadening  the  natural  impulses  of  humanity. 
Whatever  outraged  His  tender  and  perfect  nature  was 
not  less  dreadful  to  Him  than  to  us ;  it  was  much  more 
so,  because  His  sensibilities  were  unblunted  and  ex- 
quisitely strung.  At  every  thought  of  what  lay  before 
Him,  his  soul  shuddered  like  a  rudely  touched  instru- 


Markviii.32-ix.i.]      THE  REBUKE   OF  PETER.  223 

ment  of  most  delicate  structure.  And  it  was  necessary 
that  He  should  throw  back  the  temptation  with  indig- 
nation and  even  vehemence,  with  the  rebuke  of  heaven 
set  against  the  presumptuous  rebuke  of  flesh,  "  Get 
thee  behind  Me.  ...  for  thou  art  mindful  not  of  the 
things  of  God,  but  the  things  of  men." 

But  what  shall  we  say  to  the  hard  word,  "  Satan  "  ? 
Assuredly  Peter,  who  remained  faithful  to  Him,  did 
not  take  it  for  an  outbreak  of  bitterness,  an  exaggerated 
epithet  of  unbridled  and  undisciplined  resentment. 
The  very  time  occupied  in  looking  around,  the  "  circum- 
spection "  which  was  shown,  while  it  gave  emphasis, 
removed  passion  from  the  saying. 

Peter  would  therefore  understand  that  Jesus  heard, 
in  his  voice,  the  prompting  of  the  great  tempter,  to 
whom  He  had  once  already  spoken  the  same  words. 
He  would  be  warned  that  soft  and  indulgent  sentiment, 
while  seeming  kind,  may  become  the  very  snare  of 
the  destroyer. 

And  the  strong  word  which  sobered  him  will 
continue  to  be  a  warning  to  the  end  of  time. 

When  love  of  ease  or  worldly  prospects  would  lead 
us  to  discourage  the  self-devotion,  and  repress  the 
zeal  of  any  convert ;  when  toil  or  liberality  beyond  the 
recognised  level  seems  a  thing  to  discountenance,  not 
because  it  is  perhaps  misguided,  but  only  because  it  is 
exceptional ;  when,  for  a  brother  or  a  son,  we  are  tempted 
to  prefer  an  easy  and  prosperous  life  rather  than  a 
fruitful  but  stern  and  even  perilous  course,  then  we  are 
in  the  same  danger  as  Peter  of  becoming  the  mouth- 
piece of  the  Evil  One. 

Danger  and  hardness  are  not  to  be  chosen  for  their 
own  sake ;  but  to  reject  a  noble  vocation,  because  these 
are  in  the  way,  is  to  mind  not  the  things  of  God  but  the 


«24  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  MARK. 

things  of  men.  And  yet  the  temptation  is  one  from 
which  men  are  never  free,  and  which  intrudes  into 
what  seems  most  holy.  It  dared  to  assail  Jesus  ;  and  it 
is  most  perilous  still,  because  it  often  speaks  to  us,  as 
then  to  Him,  through  compassionate  and  loving  lips. 

But  now  the  Lord  calls  to  Himself  all  the  multitude, 
and  lays  down  the  rule  by  which  discipleship  must  to 
the  end  be  regulated. 

The  inflexible  law  is,  that  every  follower  of  Jesus 
must  deny  himself  and  take  up  his  cross.  It  is  not 
said.  Let  him  devise  some  harsh  and  ingenious  instru- 
ment of  self-torture  :  wanton  self-torture  is  cruelty,  and 
is  often  due  to  the  soul's  readiness  rather  to  endure 
any  other  suffering  than  that  which  God  assigns.  Nor 
is  it  said.  Let  him  take  up  My  cross,  for  the  burden 
Christ  bore  devolves  upon  no  other:  the  fight  He 
fought  is  over. 

But  it  speaks  of  some  cross  allotted,  known,  but  not 
yet  accepted,  some  lowly  form  of  suffering,  passive  or 
active,  against  which  nature  pleads,  as  Jesus  heard 
His  own  nature  pleading  when  Peter  spoke.  In  taking 
up  this  cross  we  must  deny  self,  for  it  will  refuse  the 
dreadful  burden.  What  it  is,  no  man  can  tell  his 
neighbour,  for  often  what  seems  a  fatal  besetment  is 
but  a  symptom  and  not  the  true  disease ;  and  the 
angry  man's  irritability,  and  the  drunkard's  resort  to 
stimulants,  are  due  to  remorse  and  self-reproach  for  a 
deeper-hidden  evil  gnawing  the  spiritual  life  away.  But 
the  man  himself  knows  it.  Our  exhortations  miss  the 
mark  when  we  bid  him  reform  in  this  direction  or  in 
that,  but  conscience  does  not  err ;  and  he  well  dis- 
cerns the  effort  or  the  renouncement,  hateful  to  him 
as  the  very  cross  itself,  by  which  alone  he  can  enter 
mto  life. 


Markvia,32-ix.i.]      THE  REBUKE  OF  PETER,  125 

To  him,  that  life  seems  death,  the  death  of  all  for 
whicl.  he  cares  to  live,  being  indeed  the  death  of 
selfishness.  But  from  the  beginning,  when  God  in 
Eden  set  a  barrier  against  lawless  appetite,  it  was 
announced  that  the  seeming  life  of  self-indulgence 
and  of  disobedience  was  really  death.  In  the  day 
when  Adam  ate  of  the  forbidden  fruit  he  surely  died. 
And  thus  our  Lord  declared  that  whosoever  is  resolved 
to  save  his  life — the  life  of  wayward,  isolated  selfish- 
ness— he  shall  lose  all  its  reality,  the  sap,  the  sweetness, 
and  the  glow  of  it.  And  whosoever  is  content  to  lose 
all  this  for  the  sake  of  the  Great  Cause,  the  cause  of 
Jesus  and  His  gospel,  he  shall  save  it. 

It  was  thus  that  the  great  apostle  was  crucified  with 
Christ,  yet  lived,  and  yet  no  longer  he,  for  Christ 
Himself  inspired  in  his  breast  a  nobler  and  deeper 
fife  than  that  which  he  had  lost,  for  Jesus  and  the 
gospel.  The  world  knows,  as  the  Church  does,  how 
much  superior  is  self-devotion  to  self-indulgence,  and 
that  one  crowded  hour  of  glorious  life  is  worth  an  age 
without  a  name.  Its  imagination  is  not  inflamed  by 
the  picture  of  indolence  and  luxury,  but  by  resolute 
and  victorious  effort.  But  it  knows  not  how  to  master 
the  rebellious  senses,  nor  how  to  insure  victory  in  the 
struggle,  nor  how  to  bestow  upon  the  masses,  plunged 
in  their  monotonous  toils,  the  rapture  of  triumphant 
strife.  That  can  only  be  done  by  revealing  to  them 
the  spiritual  responsibilities  of  life,  and  the  beauty  of 
His  love  Who  calls  the  humblest  to  walk  in  His  own 
sacred  footsteps. 

Very  striking  is  the  moderation  of  Jesus,  Who  does 
not  refuse  discipleship  to  self-seeking  wishes  but  only 
to  the  self-seeking  will,  in  which  wishes  have  ripened 
into  choice,  nor  does  He  demand  that  we  should  wel- 


226  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

come  the  loss  of  the  inferior  life,  but  only  that  wc 
should  accept  it.  He  can  be  touched  with  the  feeling 
of  our  infirmities. 

And  striking  also  is  this,  that  He  condemns  not  the 
vicious  life  only :  not  alone  the  man  whose  desires  are 
sensual  and  depraved ;  but  all  who  live  for  self.  No 
matter  how  refined  and  artistic  the  personal  ambitions 
be,  to  devote  ourselves  to  them  is  to  lose  the  reality 
of  life,  it  is  to  become  querulous  or  jealous  or  vain  or 
forgetful  of  the  claims  of  other  men,  or  scornful  of  the 
crowd.  Not  self-culture  but  self-sacrifice  is  the  voca- 
tion of  the  child  of  God. 

Many  people  speak  as  if  this  text  bade  us  sacrifice 
the  present  life  in  hope  of  gaining  another  life  beyond 
the  grave.  That  is  apparently  the  common  notion  of 
saving  our  "  souls,"  But  Jesus  used  one  word  for  the 
*'  life "  renounced  and  gained.  He  spoke  indeed  of 
saving  it  unto  life  eternal,  but  His  hearers  were  men 
who  trusted  that  they  had  eternal  life,  not  that  it  was 
a  far-off"  aspiration  (John  vi.  47,  54). 

And  it  is  doubtless  in  the  same  sense,  thinking  of 
the  freshness  and  joy  which  we  sacrifice  for  worldliness, 
and  how  sadly  and  soon  we  are  disillusionised,  that  He 
went  on  to  ask,  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  to  gain  the 
whole  world  and  forfeit  His  life  ?  Or  with  what  price 
shall  he  buy  it  back  when  he  discovers  his  error  ? 
But  that  discovery  is  too  often  postponed  beyond  the 
horizon  of  mortality.  As  one  desire  proves  futile, 
another  catches  the  eye,  and  somewhat  excites  again 
the  often  baffled  hope.  But  the  day  shall  come  when 
the  last  self-deception  shall  be  at  an  end.  The  cross 
of  the  Son  of  man,  that  type  of  all  noble  sacrifice,  shall 
then  be  replaced  by  the  glory  of  His  Father  with  the 
holy  angels ;  and  ignoble  compromise,  aware  of  Jesus 


Markviii.32-ix.i.]       THE  REBUKE   OF  PETER.  227 

and  His  words,  yet  ashamed  of  them  in  a  vicious  anc 
self-indulgent  age,  shall  in  turn  endure  His  averted  face. 
What  price  shall  they  offer  then,  to  buy  back  what 
they  have  forfeited  ? 

Men  who  were  standing  there  should  see  the  begin- 
ning of  the  end,  the  approach  of  the  kingdom  of  God 
with  power,  in  the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  removal 
of  the  Hebrew  candlestick  out  of  its  place. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE   TRANSFIGURATION. 

••  And  after  six  days  Jesus  taketh  with  Him  Peter,  and  Jam«»,  vaa 
John,  and  bringeth  them  up  into  a  high  mountain  apart  by  themselves ; 
and  He  was  transfigured  before  them :  and  His  garments  became 
glistering,  exceeding  white :  so  as  no  fuller  on  earth  can  whiten  them. 
And  there  appeared  unto  them  Elijah  with  Moses :  and  they  were 
talking  with  Jesus.  And  Peter  answered  and  saith  to  Jesus,  Rabbi,  it 
is  good  for  us  to  be  here :  and  let  us  make  three  tabernacles  ;  one  for 
Thee,  and  one  for  Moses,  and  one  for  Elijah.  For  He  wist  not  what 
to  answer;  for  they  became  sore  afraid.  And  there  came  a  cloud 
overshadowing  them  :  and  there  came  a  voice  out  of  the  cloud,  Tbis  is 
My  beloved  Son  :  hear  ye  Him.  And  suddenly  looking  round  about, 
they  saw  no  one  any  more,  save  Jesus  only  with  themselves." — 
Mark  ix.  2-8  (R.V.). 

THE  Transfiguration  is  an  event  without  a  parallel 
in  all  the  story  of  our  Lord.  This  breaking  fcith 
of  unearthly  splendour  in  a  life  of  self-negation,  this 
miracle  wrought  without  suffering  to  be  relieved  or 
want  supplied,  and  in  which  He  seems  to  be  not  the 
Giver  of  Help  but  the  Receiver  of  Glory,  arrests  oui 
attention  less  by  the  greatness  of  the  marvel  than  bjf 
its  loneliness. 

But  if  myth  or  legend  had  to  do  with  the  making  of 
our  Gospels,  we  should  have  had  wonders  enough 
which  bless  no  suppliant,  but  only  crown  the  sacred 
head  with  laurels.  They  are  as  plentiful  in  the  false 
Gospels  as  in  the  later  stories  of  Mahomed  or  Gautama. 
Can   we  find    a   sufficient    difference   between    thesf 


Mark ix.  2-8.]         THE   TRANSFIGURATION.  229 

romantic  tales  and  this  memorable  event — causes 
enough  to  lead  up  to  it,  and  ends  enough  for  it  to 
serve  ? 

An  answer  is  hinted  by  the  stress  /aid  in  all  three 
narratives  upon  the  date  of  the  Transfiguration.  It 
was  "  after  six  days "  according  to  the  first  two. 
St.  Luke  reckons  the  broken  portions  of  the  first  day 
and  the  last,  and  makes  it  *' about  eight  days  after 
these  sayings."  A  week  has  passed  since  the  solemn 
announcement  that  their  Lord  was  journeying  to  a 
cruel  death,  that  self  pity  was  discordant  with  the 
things  of  God,  that  all  His  followers  must  in  spirit 
endure  the  cross,  that  life  was  to  be  won  by  losing  it. 
Of  that  week  no  action  is  recorded,  and  we  may  well 
believe  that  it  was  spent  in  profound  searchings  of 
heart.  The  thief  Iscariot  would  more  than  ever  be 
estranged.  The  rest  would  aspire  and  struggle  and 
recoil,  and  explain  away  His  words  in  such  strange 
ways,  as  when  they  presently  failed  to  understand  what 
the  rising  again  from  the  dead  should  mean  (ver.  10). 
But  in  the  deep  heart  of  Jesus  there  was  peace,  the 
same  which  He  bequeathed  to  all  His  followers,  the 
perfect  calm  of  an  absolutely  surrendered  will.  He 
had  made  the  dread  announcement  and  rejected  the 
insidious  appeal;  the  sacrifice  was  already  accomplished 
in  his  inner  self,  and  the  word  spoken,  Lo,  I  come  to  do 
Thy  will,  O  God.  We  must  steadily  resist  the  notion 
that  the  Transfiguration  was  required  to  confirm  His 
consecration ;  or,  after  six  days  had  passed  since  He 
bade  Satan  get  behind  Him,  to  complete  and  perfect 
His  decision.  Yet  doubtless  it  had  its  meaning  for 
Him  also.  Such  times  of  more  than  heroic  self-devo- 
tion make  large  demands  upon  the  vital  energies. 
And  He  whom  the  argels  more  than  once  sustained, 


830  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

now  sought  refresiiment  in  the  pure  air  and  solemn 
silence  of  the  hills,  and  above  all  in  communion  with  His 
Father,  since  we  read  in  St.  Luke  that  He  went  up 
to  pray.  Who  shall  say  how  far-reaching,  how  all- 
embracing  such  a  prayer  would  be  ?  What  age,  what 
race  may  not  hope  to  have  shared  its  intercessions, 
remembering  how  He  once  expressly  prayed  not  for 
His  immediate  followers  alone.  But  we  need  not 
doubt  that  now,  as  in  the  Garden,  He  prayed  also  for 
Himself,  and  for  support  in  the  approaching  death- 
struggle.  And  the  Twelve,  so  keenly  tried,  would  be 
especially  remembered  in  this  season.  And  even 
among  these  there  would  be  distinctions ;  for  we  know 
His  manner,  we  remember  that  when  Satan  claimed 
to  have  them  all,  Jesus  prayed  especially  for  Peter, 
because  his  conversion  would  strengthen  his  brethren. 
Now  this  principle  of  benefit  to  all  through  the  selection 
of  the  fittest,  explains  why  three  were  chosen  to  be 
the  eye-witnesses  of  His  glory.  If  the  others  had  been 
there,  perhaps  they  would  have  been  led  away  into 
millennarian  day-dreams.  Perhaps  the  worldly  aspira- 
tions of  Judas,  thus  inflamed,  would  have  spread  far. 
Perhaps  they  would  have  murmured  against  that  return 
to  common  life,  which  St.  Peter  was  so  anxious  to 
postpone.  Perhaps  even  the  chosen  three  were  only 
saved  from  intoxicating  and  delusive  hopes  by  the 
sobering  knowledge  that  what  they  had  seen  was  to 
remain  a  secret  until  some  intervening  and  mysterious 
event.  The  unripeness  of  the  others  for  special  reve- 
lations was  abundantly  shown,  on  the  morrow,  by  their 
failure  to  cast  out  a  devil.  It  was  enough  that  their 
leaders  should  have  this  grand  confirmation  of  their 
faith.  There  was  among  them,  henceforth,  a  secret 
fountain  of  encouragement  and  trust,  amid  the  darkest 


Mark  ix.  2-8.]         THE    TRANSFIGURATION.  231 

circumstances.  The  panic  in  which  all  forsook  Him 
might  have  been  final,  but  for  this  vision  of  His  glory. 
P  or  it  is  noteworthy  that  these  three  are  the  foremost 
afterwards  in  sincere  though  frail  devotion  :  one  offering 
to  die  with  Him,  and  the  others  desiring  to  drink  of 
His  cup  and  to  be  baptized  with  His  baptism. 

While  Jesus  prays  for  them,  He  is  Himself  made 
the  source  of  their  revival.  He  had  lately  promised 
that  they  who  willed  to  lose  their  life  should  find  it 
unto  life  eternal.  And  now,  in  Him  who  had  perfectly 
so  willed,  they  beheld  the  eternal  glory  beaming  forth, 
until  His  very  garments  were  steeped  in  light.  There 
is  no  need  of  proof  that  the  spirit  has  power  over  the 
body ;  the  question  is  only  of  degree.  Vile  passions 
can  permanently  degrade  human  comeliness.  And  there 
is  a  beauty  beyond  that  of  line  or  colour,  seen  in  vivid 
hours  of  emotion,  on  the  features  of  a  mother  beside 
her  sleeping  babe,  of  an  orator  when  his  soul  burns 
within  him,  of  a  martyr  when  his  face  is  as  the  face  of 
an  angel,  and  often  making  fairer  than  youthful  bloom 
the  old  age  that  has  suffered  long  and  been  kind. 
These  help  us,  however  faintly,  to  believe  that  there  is 
a  spiritual  body,  and  that  we  may  yet  bear  the  image 
of  the  heavenly.  And  so  once,  if  only  once,  it  is  given 
to  sinful  men  to  see  how  a  perfect  spirit  can  illuminate 
its  fleshly  tabernacle,  as  a  flame  illuminates  a  lamp, 
and  what  the  life  is  Hke  in  which  self-crucifixion 
issues.  In  this  hour  of  rapt  devotion  His  body  was 
steeped  in  the  splendour  which  was  natural  to  holiness, 
and  which  would  never  have  grown  dim  but  that  the 
great  sacrifice  had  still  to  be  carried  out  in  action. 
We  shall  best  think  of  the  glories  of  transfiguration 
not  as  poured  over  Jesus,  but  as  a  revelation  from 
within.      Moreover,  while    they  gaze,  the   conquering 


233  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

chiefs  of  the  Old  Testament  approach  the  Man  of 
Sorrows.  Because  the  spirit  of  the  hour  is  that  of 
self-devotion,  they  see  not  Abraham,  the  prosperous 
friend  of  God,  nor  Isaiah  whose  burning  words  befit 
the  lips  that  were  touched  by  fire  from  an  unearthly 
altar,  but  the  heroic  law-giver  and  the  Uon-hearted  pro- 
phet, the  typical  champions  of  the  ancient  dispensation. 
Elijah  had  not  seen  death ;  a  majestic  obscurity  veiled 
the  ashes  of  Moses  from  excess  of  honour;  yet  these 
were  not  offended  by  the  cross  which  tried  so  cruelly 
the  faith  of  the  apostles.  They  spoke  of  His  decease, 
and  their  word  seems  to  have  lingered  in  the  narrative 
as  strangely  appropriate  to  one  of  the  speakers ;  it  is 
Christ's  "  exodus."  * 

But  St.  Mark  does  not  linger  over  this  detail,  nor 
mention  the  drowsiness  with  which  they  struggled  ;  he 
leans  all  the  weight  of  his  vivid  narrative  upon  one 
great  fact,  the  evidence  now  given  of  our  Lord's  abso- 
lute supremacy. 

For,  at  this  juncture  Peter  interposed.  He  "  an- 
swered," a  phrase  which  points  to  his  consciousness  that 
he  was  no  unconcerned  bystander,  that  the  vision  was 
in  some  degree  addressed  to  him  and  his  companions. 
But  he  answers  at  random,  and  Uke  a  man  distraught. 
^'  Lord,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  h.ere,"  as  if  it  were  not 
always  good  to  be  where  Jesus  led,  even  though  men 
should  bear  a  cross  to  follow  Him.  Intoxicated  by  the 
joy  of  seeing  the  King  in  His  beauty,  and  doubtless  by 
the  revulsion  of  new  hope  in  the  stead  of  his  dolorous 
forebodings,  he  proposes  to  linger  there.     He  will  have 

*  Once  besides  in  the  New  Testament  this  phrase  was  applied  to 
death.  That  was  by  St.  Peter  speaking  of  his  own,  when  the  thought 
of  the  transfiguration  was  floating  in  his  mind,  and  its  voices  lingered 
unconsciously  in  his  memory  (2  Pet.  i.  15,  of.  ver.  17).  The  phrase, 
though  not  unclassical,  is  not  common. 


Mark  ix.  2-8.]  THE   TRANSFIGURATION,  233 


more  than  is  granted,  just  as,  when  Jesus  washed  his 
feet,  he  said  "not  my  feet  only,  but  also  my  hands 
and  my  head."  And  if  this  might  be,  it  was  fitting  that 
these  superhuman  personages  should  have  tabernacles 
made  for  them.  No  doubt  the  assertion  that  he  wist 
not  what  to  say,  bears  specially  upon  this  strange  offer 
to  skelter  glorified  bodies  from  the  night  air,  and  to 
provide  for  each  a  place  of  separate  repose.  The 
words  are  incoherent,  but  they  are  quite  natural  from 
one  who  has  so  impulsively  begun  to  speak  that  now 
he  must  talk  on,  because  he  knows  not  how  to  stop. 
They  are  the  words  of  the  very  Peter  whose  actions  we 
know  so  well.  As  he  formerly  walked  upon  the  sea, 
before  considering  how  boisterous  were  the  waves,  and 
would  soon  afterwards  smite  with  the  sword,  and  risk 
himself  in  the  High  Priest's  palace,  without  seeing  his 
way  through  either  adventure,  exactly  so  in  this  be- 
wildering presence  he  ventures  into  a  sentence  without 
knowing  how  to  close  it. 

Now  this  perfect  accuracy  of  character,  so  dramatic 
and  yet  so  unaffected,  is  evidence  of  the  truth  of  this 
great  miracle.  To  a  frank  student  who  knows  human 
nature,  it  is  a  very  admirable  evidence.  To  one  who 
knows  how  clumsily  such  effects  are  produced  by  all 
but  the  greatest  masters  of  creative  literature,  it  is 
almost  decisive. 

In  speaking  thus,  he  has  lowered  his  Master  to  the 
level  of  the  others,  unconscious  that  Moses  and  Elijah 
were  only  attendants  upon  Jesus,  who  have  come  from 
heaven  because  He  is  upon  earth,  and  who  speak  not 
of  their  achievements  but  of  His  sufferings.  If  Peter 
knew  it,  the  hour  had  struck  when  their  work,  the  law  of 
Moses  and  the  utterances  of  the  prophets  whom  Elijah 
represented,  should  cease  to  be  the  chief  impulse  in 


234  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

religion,  and  without  being  destroyed,  should  be  "  ful- 
filled/' and  absorbed  in  a  new  system.  He  was  there 
to  whom  Moses  in  the  law,  and  the  prophets  bore 
witness,  and  in  His  presence  they  had  no  glory  by 
reason  of  the  glory  that  excelleth.  Yet  Peter  would 
fain  build  equal  tabernacles  for  all  alike. 

Now  St.  Luke  tells  us  that  he  interposed  just  when 
they  were  departing,  and  apparently  in  the  hope  of 
staying  them.  But  all  the  narratives  convey  a  strong 
impression  that  his  words  hastened  their  disappear- 
ance, and  decided  the  manner  of  it.  For  while  he  yet 
spake,  as  if  all  the  vision  were  eclipsed  on  being  thus 
misunderstood,  a  cloud  swept  over  the  three — bright, 
yet  overshadowing  them — and  the  voice  of  God  pro- 
claimed their  Lord  to  be  His  beloved  Son  (not  faithful 
only,  like  Moses,  as  a  steward  over  the  house),  and 
bade  them,  instead  of  desiring  to  arrest  the  flight  of 
rival  teachers,  hear  Him. 

Too  often  Christian  souls  err  after  the  same  fashion. 
We  cling  to  authoritative  teachers,  familiar  ordinances, 
and  traditional  views,  good  it  may  be,  and  even  divinely 
given,  as  if  they  were  not  intended  wholly  to  lead  us 
up  to  Christ.  And  in  many  a  spiritual  eclipse,  from 
many  a  cloud  which  the  heart  fears  to  enter,  the  great 
lesson  resounds  through  the  conscience  of  the  believer, 
Hear  Him  1 

Did  the  words  remind  Peter  how  he  had  lately  begun 
to  rebuke  his  Lord  ?  Did  the  visible  glory,  the  minis- 
tration of  blessed  spirits  and  the  voice  of  God,  teach 
him  henceforth  to  hear  and  to  submit  ?  Alas,  he  could 
again  contradict  Jesus,  and  say  Thou  shalt  never  wash 
my  feet.  I  never  will  deny  Thee.  And  we,  who 
wonder  and  blame  him,  as  easily  forget  what  we  arc 
taught. 


Mark ix. 9-13]    DESCENT  J^ROM   THE  MOUNT.  235 

Let  it  be  observed  that  the  miraculous  and  Divine 
Voice  reveals  nothing  nev^  to  them.  For  the  words, 
This  is  My  beloved  Sun,  and  also  their  drift  in  raising 
Him  above  all  rivalry,  were  involved  in  the  recent 
confession  of  this  very  Peter  that  He  was  neither 
Elijah  nor  one  of  the  prophets,  but  the  Son  of  the 
Living  God.  So  true  is  it  that  we  may  receive  a  truth 
into  our  creed,  and  even  apprehend  it  with  such  vital 
faith  as  makes  us  *'  blessed,"  long  before  it  grasps  and 
subdues  our  nature,  and  saturates  the  obscure  regions 
where  impulse  and  excitement  are  controlled.  What 
we  all  need  most  is  not  clearer  and  sounder  views,  but 
the  bringing  of  our  thoughts  into  subjection  to  the 
mind  of  Jesus. 

THE  DESCENT  FROM  THE  MOUNT. 

••  And  as  they  were  coming  down  from  the  mountain,  He  charged 
them  that  they  should  tell  no  man  what  things  they  had  seen,  save 
when  the  Son  of  man  should  have  risen  again  from  the  dead.  And  they 
kept  the  saying,  questioning  among  themselves  what  the  rising  again 
from  the  dead  should  mean.  And  they  asked  Him,  saying,  The  scribes 
say  that  Elijah  must  first  come.  And  He  said  unto  them,  Elijah  indeed 
Cometh  first,  and  restoreth  all  things  :  and  how  is  it  written  of  the  Son 
of  man,  that  He  should  suffer  many  things  and  be  set  at  nought  ?  But  I 
say  unto  you,  that  Elijah  is  come,  and  they  have  also  done  unto  him 
whatsoever  they  listed,  even  as  it  is  written  of  Him." — Mark  ix.  9-13 
(R.V.). 

In  what  state  of  mind  did  the  apostles  return  from  be- 
holding the  glory  of  the  Lord,  and  His  ministers  from 
another  world  ?  They  seem  to  have  been  excited,  de- 
monstrative, ready  to  blaze  abroad  the  wonderful  event 
which  ought  to  put  an  end  to  all  men's  doubts. 

They  would  have  been  bitterly  disappointed,  if  they 
had  prematurely  exposed  their  experience  to  ridicule, 
cross-examination,  conjectural  theories,  and  all  the  con- 
troversy which  reduces  f^cts  to  logical  form,  but  strips 


236  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

them  of  their  freshness  and  vitality.  In  the  first  age 
as  in  the  nineteenth,  it  was  possible  to  be  witnesses 
for  the  Lord  without  exposing  to  coarse  and  irreverent 
handling  all  the  delicate  and  secret  experiences  of  the 
soul  with  Christ. 

Therefore  Jesus  charged  them  that  they  should  tell  no 
man.  Silence  would  force  back  the  impression  upon 
the  depths  of  their  own  spirits,  and  spread  its  roots 
under  the  surface  there. 

Nor  was  it  right  to  make  such  a  startling  demand 
upon  the  faith  of  others  before  public  evidence  had  been 
given,  enough  to  make  scepticism  blameworthy.  His 
resurrection  from  the  dead  would  suffice  to  unseal  their 
lips.  And  the  experience  of  all  the  Church  has  justi- 
fied that  decision.  The  resurrection  is,  in  fact,  the 
centre  of  all  the  miraculous  narratives,  the  sun  which 
keeps  them  in  their  orbit.  Some  of  them,  as  isolated 
events,  might  have  failed  to  challenge  credence.  But 
authority  and  sanction  are  given  to  all  the  rest  by  this 
great  and  publicly  attested  marvel,  which  has  modified 
history,  and  the  denial  of  which  makes  history  at  once 
untrustworthy  and  incoherent.  When  Jesus  rose  from 
the  dead,  the  whole  significance  of  His  life  and  its 
events  was  deepened. 

This  mention  of  the  resurrection  called  them  away 
from  pleasant  day-dreams,  by  reminding  them  that 
their  Master  was  to  die.  For  Him  there  was  no 
illusion.  Coming  back  from  the  light  and  voices  of 
heaven,  the  cross  before  Him  was  as  visible  as  ever 
to  His  undazzled  eyes,  and  He  was  still  the  sober  and 
vigilant  friend  to  warn  them  against  false  hopes.  They 
however  found  means  of  explaining  the  unwelcome 
truth  away.  Various  theories  were  discussed  among 
them,  what  the  rising  from  the  dead  should  mean,  what 


Markix.  14-29.]        THE  DEMONIAC  BOY,  237 

should  be  in  fact  the  limit  to  their  silence.  This  very 
perplexity,  and  the  chill  upon  their  hopes,  aided  them 
to  keep  the  matter  close. 

One  hope  was  too  strong  not  to  be  at  least  hinted 
to  Jesus.  They  had  just  seen  Elias.  Surely  they  were 
right  in  expecting  his  interference,  as  the  scribes  had 
taught.  Instead  of  a  lonely  road  pursued  by  the  Mes- 
siah to  a  painful  death,  should  not  that  great  prophet 
come  as  a  forerunner  and  restore  all  things  ?  How 
then  was  murderous  opposition  possible  ? 

And  Jesus  answered  that  one  day  this  should  come  to 
pass.  The  herald  should  indeed  reconcile  all  hearts, 
before  the  great  and  notable  day  of  the  Lord  come. 
But  for  the  present  time  there  was  another  question. 
That  promise  to  which  they  clung,  was  it  their  only 
light  upon  futurity  ?  Was  not  the  assertion  quite  as 
plain  that  the  Son  of  Man  should  suffer  many  things 
and  be  set  at  nought  ?  So  far  was  Jesus  from  that 
state  of  mind  in  which  men  buoy  themselves  up  with 
false  hope.  No  apparent  prophecy,  no  splendid  vision, 
deceived  His  unerring  insight.  And  yet  no  despair 
arrested  His  energies  for  one  hour. 

But,  He  added,  Elias  had  already  been  offered  to 
this  generation  in  vain ;  they  had  done  to  him  as  they 
listed.  They  had  re-enacted  what  history  recorded  of 
his  life  on  earth. 

Then  a  veil  dropped  from  the  disciples*  eyes.  They 
recognised  the  dweller  in  lonely  places,  the  man  of 
hairy  garment  and  ascetic  Hfe,  persecuted  by  a  feeble 
tyrant  who  cowered  before  his  rebuke,  and  by  the 
deadlier  hatred  of  an  adulterous  queen.  They  saw  how 
the  very  name  of  Elias  raised  a  probability  that  the 
second  prophet  should  be  treated  "a»  it  is  written  of" 
the  first. 


238  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    WARJC, 


If  then  they  had  so  strangely  misjudged  the  prepara- 
tion of  His  way,  what  might  they  not  apprehend  of  the 
issue  ?     So  should  also  the  Son  of  man  suffer  of  them. 

Do  we  wonder  that  they  had  not  hitherto  recognised 
the  prophet  ?  Perhaps,  when  all  is  made  clear  at  last, 
we  shall  wonder  more  at  our  own  refusals  of  reverence, 
our  bhndness  to  the  meaning  of  noble  lives,  our  mode- 
rate and  qualified  respect  for  men  of  whom  the  world 
is  not  worthy. 

How  much  solid  greatness  would  some  of  us  over- 
look, if  it  went  with  an  unpolished  and  unattractive 
exterior  ?  Now  the  Baptist  was  a  rude  and  abrupt 
person,  of  little  culture,  unwelcome  in  kings'  houses. 
Yet  no  greater  had  been  born  of  woman. 

THE   DEMONIAC   BOY. 

**  And  when  they  came  to  the  disciples,  they  saw  a  great  multitude 
ibout  them,  and  scribes  questioning  with  them.  And  straightway  all 
ihe  multitude,  when  they  saw  Him,  were  greatly  amazed,  and  running 
to  Him  saluted  Him.  And  He  asked  them,  What  question  ye  with 
them  ?  And  one  of  the  multitude  answered  Him,  Master,  I  brought 
unto  Thee  my  son,  which  hath  a  dumb  spirit ;  and  wheresoever  it 
taketh  him,  it  dasheth  him  down :  and  he  foameth,  and  grindeth  hi« 
teeth,  and  pineth  away  :  and  I  spake  to  Thy  disciples  that  they  should 
cast  it  out ;  and  they  were  not  able.  And  He  answered  them  and  saith, 
O  faithless  generation,  how  long  shall  I  be  with  you  ?  how  long  shall  I 
bear  with  you  ?  bring  him  unto  Me.  And  they  brought  him  unto  Him  : 
and  when  He  saw  him,  straightway  the  spirit  tare  him  grievously ;  and 
he  fell  on  the  ground,  and  wallowed  foaming.  And  He  asked  his 
father,  How  long  time  is  it  since  this  hath  come  imto  him  ?  And  he 
said,  From  a  child.  And  oft-times  it  hath  cast  him  both  into  the  fire 
and  into  the  waters,  to  destroy  him :  but  if  Thou  canst  do  anything, 
have  compassion  on  us,  and  help  us.  And  Jesus  said  unto  him.  If 
thou  canst  1  All  things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth.  Straightway 
the  father  of  the  child  cried  out,  and  said,  I  believe  ;  help  Thou  mine 
unbelief.  And  when  Jesus  saw  that  a  multitude  came  running  together, 
He  rebuked  the  unclean  spirit,  saying  unto  him,  Thou  dumb  and  deaf 
spirit,  I  command  thee,  come  out  of  him,  and  enter  no  more  into  him. 


M.rkix   14-27.]         THE  DEMONIAC  BOY.  139 

And  having  cried  out,  and  torn  him  much,  he  came  out :  and  the  child 
became  as  one  dead ;  insomuch  that  the  more  part  said,  He  is  dead. 
But  Jesus  took  Him  by  the  hand,  and  raised  him  up ;  and  he  arose. 
And  when  He  was  come  into  the  house,  His  disciples  asked  Him 
privately,  saying.  We  could  not  cast  it  out.  And  He  said  unto  them, 
This  kind  can  come  out  by  nothing,  save  by  prayer." — Mark  ix. 
14-29  (R.V.). 

Peter  soon  had  striking  evidence  that  it  would  rot 
have  been  "  good  "  for  them  to  Hnger  too  long  upon  the 
mountain.  And  our  Lord  was  recalled  with  painful 
abruptness  from  the  glories  of  transfiguration  to  the 
scepticism  of  scribes,  the  failure  and  shame  of  disciples, 
and  the  triumph  of  the  powers  of  evil. 

To  the  Twelve  He  had  explicitly  given  authority  over 
devils,  and  even  the  Seventy,  venturing  by  faith  to  cast 
them  out,  had  told  Him  of  their  success  with  joy.  But 
now,  in  the  sorrow  and  fear  of  these  latter  days,  de- 
prived of  their  Master  and  of  their  own  foremost  three, 
oppressed  with  gloomy  forebodings,  and  infected  with 
the  worldliness  which  fails  to  pray,  the  nine  had  striven 
in  vain.  It  is  the  only  distinct  repulse  recorded,  and 
the  scribes  attacked  them  keenly.  Where  was  their 
Master  at  this  crisis  ?  Did  not  they  profess  equally 
to  have  the  necessary  power  ?  Here  was  a  test,  and 
some  failed,  and  the  others  did  not  present  themselves. 
We  can  imagine  the  miserable  scene,  contrasting 
piteously  with  what  passed  on  the  summit  of  the  hill. 
And  in  the  centre  was  an  agonized  father  and  a  tor- 
tured lad. 

At  this  moment  the  crowds,  profoundly  moved, 
rushed  to  meet  the  Lord,  and  on  seeing  Him,  became 
aware  that  failure  was  at  an  end.  Perhaps  the  ex- 
ceeding brightness  lingered  still  upon  His  face;  perhapi 
it  was  but  the  unearthly  and  victorious  calm  of  His 
consecration,  visible  in  His  mien ;   what  is  certain  if 


a40  GOSPEL   OB  S7.   MARK. 

that  they  were  greatly  amazed,  and  ran  to  Him  and  did 
homage. 

Jesus  at  once  challenged  a  renewal  of  the  attack 
which  had  been  too  much  for  His  apostles.  "What 
question  ye  with  them  ?  "  But  awe  has  fallen  upon  the 
scribes  also,  and  misery  is  left  to  tell  its  own  tale. 
Their  attack  by  preference  upon  the  disciples  is  very 
natural,  and  it  by  no  means  stands  alone.  They  did 
not  ask  Him,  but  His  followers,  why  He  ate  and  drank 
with  sinners,  nor  whether  He  paid  the  half-shekel 
(Mark  ii.  i6;  Matt.  »vii.  24).  When  they  did  complain 
to  the  Master  Himself,  it  was  commonly  of  some  fault 
in  His  disciples :  Why  do  Thy  disciples  fast  not  ? 
Why  they  do  on  the  Sabbath  day  that  which  is  not 
lawful  ?  Why  do  they  eat  with  defiled  hands  ?  (Mark 
ii.  18,  24;  vii.  5).  Their  censures  of  Himself  were 
usually  muttered  or  silent  murmurings,  which  He  dis- 
cerned, as  when  He  forgave  the  sins  of  the  palsied  man ; 
when  the  Pharisee  marvelled  that  He  had  not  washed 
His  hands;  when  He  accepted  the  homage  of  the 
sinful  woman,  and  again  when  He  spoke  her  pardon 
(Mark  ii.  8;  Luke  xi.  38;  vii.  39-49)-  When  He  healed 
the  woman  whom  a  spirit  of  infirmity  had  bent  down 
for  eighteen  years,  the  ruler  of  the  synagogue  spoke  to 
the  people,  without  venturing  to  address  Jesus.  (Luke 
xiii.  14). 

It  is  important  to  observe  such  indications,  unob- 
trusive, and  related  by  various  evangelists,  of  the 
majesty  and  impressiveness  which  surrounded  our 
Lord,  and  awed  even  His  bitter  foes. 

The  silence  is  broken  by  an  unhappy  father,  who  had 
been  the  centre  of  the  group,  but  whom  the  abrupt  move- 
ment to  meet  Jesus  has  merged  in  the  crowd  again. 
The  case  of  his  son  is  among  those  which  prove  that 


Markix.  14-27.]        THE  DEMONIAC  BOY,  241 

demoniacal  possession  did  not  imply  the  exceptional  guilt 
of  its  victims,  for  though  still  young,  he  has  suffered 
long.  The  demon  which  afflicts  him  is  dumb  ;  it  works 
in  the  guise  of  epilepsy,  and  as  a  disease  it  is  affected 
by  the  changes  of  the  moon  ;  a  malicious  design  is 
visible  in  frequent  falls  into  fire  and  water,  to  destroy 
him.  The  father  had  sought  Jesus  with  him,  and  since 
,  He  was  absent  had  appealed  to  His  followers,  but  in 
vain.  Some  consequent  injury  to  his  own  faith,  clearly 
implied  in  what  follows,  may  possibly  be  detected 
already,  in  the  absence  of  any  further  petition,  and  in 
the  cold  epithet,  **  Teacher,"  which  he  employs. 

Even  as  an  evidence  the  answer  of  Jesus  is  remark- 
able, being  such  as  human  ingenuity  would  not  have 
invented,  nor  the  legendary  spirit  have  conceived.  It 
would  have  seemed  natural  that  He  should  hasten  to 
vindicate  His  claims  and  expose  the  folly  of  the  scribes, 
or  else  have  reproached  His  followers  for  the  failure 
which  had  compromised  Him. 

But  the  scribes  were  entirely  set  aside  from  the 
moment  when  the  Good  Physician  was  invoked  by  a 
bleeding  heart.  Yet  the  physical  trouble  is  dealt  with 
deliberately,  not  in  haste,  as  by  one  whose  mastery  is 
assured.  The  passing  shadow  which  has  fallen  on  Hi? 
cause  only  concerns  Him  as  a  part  of  the  heavy  spi- 
-  ritual  burden  which  oppresses  Him,  which  this  terrible 
scene  so  vividly  exhibits. 

For  the  true  importance  of  His  words  is  this,  that 
they  reveal  sufferings  which  are  too  often  forgotten,  and 
which  few  are  pure  enough  even  to  comprehend.  The 
prevalent  evil  weighed  upon  Him.  And  here  the  visible 
power  of  Satan,  the  hostility  of  the  scribes,  the  failure 
of  His  own,  the  suspense  and  agitation  of  the  crowd, 
all  breathed  the  spirit  of  that  evil  age,  alien  and  harsh 

16 


242  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK. 

to  Him  as  an  infected  atmosphere.  He  blames  none 
more  than  others  ;  it  is  the  "  generation,"  so  faithless 
and  perverse,  which  forces  Him  to  exclaim :  "  How  long 
shall  I  be  with  you  ?  how  long  shall  I  bear  with  you  ?  " 
It  is  the  cry  of  the  pain  of  Jesus.  It  bids  us  to  con- 
sider Him  Who  endured  such  contradiction  of  sinners, 
who  were  even  sinners  against  Himself.  So  that  the 
distress  of  Jesus  was  not  that  of  a  mere  eye-witness 
of  evil  or  sufferer  by  it.  His  priesthood  established  a 
closer  and  more  agonizing  connection  between  our  Lord 
and  the  sins  which  tortured  Him. 

Do  the  words  startle  us,  with  the  suggestion  of  a 
limit  to  the  forbearance  of  Jesus,  well-nigh  reached  ? 
There  was  such  a  limit.  The  work  of  His  messenger 
had  been  required,  lest  His  coming  should  be  to  smite 
the  world.  His  mind  was  the  mind  of  God,  and  it 
is  written,  Kiss  the  Son,  lest  He  be  angry. 

Now  if  Jesus  looked  forward  to  shame  and  anguish 
with  natural  shrinking,  v/e  here  perceive  another  aspect 
in  which  His  coming  Baptism  of  Blood  was  viewed, 
and  we  discover  why  He  was  straitened  until  it  was 
accomplished.  There  is  an  intimate  connection  between 
this  verse  and  His  saying  in  St.  John,  "  If  ye  loved  Me, 
ye  would  rejoice,  because  I  go  unto  My  Father." 

But  swiftly  the  mind  of  Jesus  recurs  to  the  misery 
which  avvaits  help  ;  and  He  bids  them  bring  the  child 
to  Him.  Now  the  sweet  influence  of  His  presence 
would  have  soothed  and  mitigated  any  mere  disease.  It 
is  to  such  influence  that  sceptical  writers  are  wont  to 
turn  for  an  explanation,  such  as  it  is,  of  the  works  He 
wrought.  But  it  was  the  reverse  in  cases  of  possession. 
There  a  wild  sense  of  antagonism  and  revolt  was  wont 
to  show  itself.  And  we  might  learn  that  this  was  some- 
thing more  than  epilepsy,  even  were  it  left  doubtful 


Mark ix.  14  27.]         THE  DEMONIAC  BOY,  243 

Otherwise,  by  the  outburst  of  Satanic  rage.  When  he 
saw  Him,  straightway  the  spirit  convulsed  him  griev- 
ously, and  he  fell  wallowing  and  foaming. 

Yet  Jesus  is  neither  hurried  nor  agitated.  In  not 
one  of  His  miracles  does  precipitation,  or  mere  impulse, 
mingle  with  His  grave  and  self-contained  compassion. 
He  will  question  the  scribes  while  the  man  with  a 
withered  hand  awaits  His  help.  He  will  rebuke  the 
disciples  before  quelling  the  storm.  At  Nain  He  will 
touch  the  bier  and  arrest  the  bearers.  When  He  feeds 
the  multitude,  He  will  first  command  a  search  for  loaves. 
He  will  stand  still  and  call  Bartimaeus  to  Him.  He 
will  evoke,  even  by  seeming  harshness,  the  faith  of  the 
woman  of  Canaan.  He  will  have  the  stone  rolled  away 
from  the  sepulchre  of  Lazarus.  When  He  Himself 
rises,  the  grave-clothes  are  found  folded  up,  and  the 
napkin  which  bound  His  head  laid  in  a  place  by  itself, 
the  last  tribute  of  mortals  to  His  mortality  not  being 
flung  contemptuously  aside.  All  His  miracles  are 
authenticated  by  the  stamp  of  the  same  character — 
serene,  not  in  haste  nor  tardy,  since  He  saw  the  end 
from  the  beginning.  In  this  case  delay  is  necessary,  to 
arouse  the  father,  if  only  by  interrogation,  from  his  dull 
disappointment  and  hopelessness.  He  asks  therefore 
"How  long  time  is  it  since  this  came  upon  him  ?"  and  the 
answer  shows  that  he  was  now  at  least  a  stripling,  for  he 
had  suffered  ever  since  he  was  a  child.  Then  the  un- 
happy man  is  swept  away  by  his  emotions :  as  he  tells 
their  sorrows,  and  thinks  what  a  wretched  life  or  miser- 
able death  lies  before  his  son,  he  bursts  into  a  pas- 
sionate appeal.  If  Thou  canst  do  anything,  do  this. 
Let  pity  for  such  misery,  for  the  misery  of  father  as 
well  as  child,  evoke  all  Thy  power  to  save.  The  form 
is  more  disrespectful  than  the  substance  of  his  cry  ;  its 


344  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

very  vehemence  is  evidence  that  some  hope  is  working 
in  his  breast ;  and  there  is  more  real  trust  in  its 
wild  urgency  than  in  many  a  reverential  and  carefully 
weighed  prayer. 

Yet  how  much  rashness,  self-assertion,  and  wilful- 
ness (which  is  really  unbelief)  were  mingled  with  his 
germinant  faith  and  needed  rebuke.  Therefore  Christ 
responded  with  his  own  word  :  '^  If  thou  canst :  thou 
sayest  it  to  Me,  but  I  retort  the  condition  upon  thyself: 
with  thee  are  indeed  the  issues  of  thine  own  application, 
for  all  things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth," 

This  answer  is  in  two  respects  important.  There 
was  a  time  when  popular  religion  dealt  too  much  with 
internal  experience  and  attainment.  But  perhaps  there 
are  schools  among  us  now  which  verge  upon  the  op- 
posite extreme.  Faith  and  love  are  generally  strongest 
when  they  forget  themselves,  and  do  not  say  "  I  am 
faithful  and  loving,"  but  *'  Christ  is  trustworthy,  Christ 
is  adorable."  This  is  true,  and  these  virtues  are  be- 
coming artificial,  and  so  false,  as  soon  as  they  grow 
self-complacent.  Yet  we  should  give  at  least  enough 
attention  to  our  own  attainments  to  warn  us  of  our 
deficiencies.  And  wherever  we  find  a  want  of  blessed- 
ness, we  may  seek  for  the  reason  within  ourselves. 
Many  a  one  is  led  to  doubt  whether  Christ  "  can  do 
anything"  practical  for  him,  since  private  prayer  and 
public  ordinances  help  him  little,  and  his  temptations 
continue  to  prevail,  whose  true  need  is  to  be  roused 
up  sharply  to  the  consciousness  that  it  is  not  Christ 
who  has  failed ;  it  is  he  himself :  his  faith  is  dim,  his 
grasp  on  his  Lord  is  half  hearted,  he  is  straitened  in 
his  own  affections.  Our  personal  experiences  should 
never  teach  us  confidence,  tut  they  may  often  serve 
to  humble  and  warn  us. 


Mark  ix.  14-27- ]         THE  DEMOMAC  BOY.  245 

This  answer  also  impresses  upon  us  the  dignity  of 
Him  who  speaks.  Failure  had  already  come  through 
the  spiritual  defects  of  His  disciples,  but  for  Him,  though 
"meek  and  lowly  of  heart/'  no  such  danger  is  even 
contemplated.  No  appeal  to  Him  can  be  frustrated 
except  through  fault  of  the  suppliant,  since  all  things  are 
possible  to  him  that  believeth. 

Now  faith  is  in  itself  nothing,  and  may  even  be  per- 
nicious ;  all  its  effect  depends  upon  the  object.  Trust 
reposed  in  a  friend  avails  or  misleads  according  to  his 
love  and  his  resources ;  trust  in  a  traitor  is  ruinous, 
and  ruinous  in  proportion  to  its  energy.  And  since 
trust  in  Jesus  is  omnipotent.  Who  and  what  is  He  ? 

The  word  pierces  like  a  two-edged  sword,  and  reveals  to 
the  agitated  father  the  conflict,  the  impurity  of  his  heart. 
Unbelief  is  there,  and  of  himself  he  cannot  conquer 
it.  Yet  is  he  not  entirely  unbelieving,  else  what  drew 
him  thither  ?  What  impulse  led  to  that  passionate 
recital  of  his  griefs,  that  over-daring  cry  of  anguish  ? 
And  what  is  now  this  burning  sense  within  him  of 
a  great  and  inspiring  Presence,  which  urges  him  to 
a  bolder  appeal  for  a  miracle  yet  more  spiritual  and 
Divine,  a  cry  well  directed  to  the  Author  and  Finisher 
of  our  faith  ?  Never  was  medicine  better  justified  by 
its  operation  upon  disease,  than  the  treatment  which 
converted  a  too-importunate  clamour  for  bodily  relief 
into  a  contrite  prayer  for  grace.  "  I  beHeve,  help  Thou 
mine  unbelief."  The  same  sense  of  mixed  imperfect  and 
yet  real  trust  should  exist  in  every  one  of  us,  or  else  our 
belief  being  perfect  should  be  irresistible  in  the  mor^ 
sphere,  and  in  the  physical  world  so  resigned,  so  con- 
fident in  the  Love  which  governs,  as  never  to  be  con- 
scious of  any  gnawing  importunate  desire.  And  from  the 
same  sense  of  need,  the  same  cry  for  help  should  spring. 


246  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

Miraculous  legends  have  gathered  around  the  livea 
of  many  good  and  gracious  men  within  Christendom 
and  outside  it.  But  they  cannot  claim  to  weigh 
against  the  history  of  Jesus,  until  at  least  pne  example 
can  be  produced  of  such  direct  spiritual  action,  so  pro- 
found, penetrating  and  effectual,  inextricably  interwoven 
in  the  tissue  of  any  fable. 

All  this  time  the  agitation  of  the  people  had  in- 
creased. A  multitude  was  rushing  forward,  whose 
excitement  would  do  more  to  distract  the  father's  mind 
than  further  delay  to  help  him.  And  Jesus,  even  in 
the  midst  of  His  treatment  of  souls,  was  not  blind  to 
such  practical  considerations,  or  to  the  influence  of 
circumstances.  Unlike  modern  dealers  in  sensation, 
He  can  never  be  shown  to  have  aimed  at  religious 
excitement,  while  it  was  His  custom  to  discourage  it 
Therefore  He  now  rebuked  the  unclean  spirit  in  the  lad, 
addressing  it  directly  speaking  as  a  superior.  "  Thou 
deaf  and  dumb  spirit,  I  command  thee,  come  out  of 
him,"  and  adding,  with  explicitness  which  was  due  per- 
haps to  the  obstinate  ferocity  of  "  this  kind,"  or  perhaps 
was  intended  to  help  the  father's  lingering  unbelief, 
**  enter  no  more  into  him."  The  evil  being  obeys,  yet 
proves  his  reluctance  by  screaming  and  convulsing  his 
victim  for  the  last  time,  so  that  he,  though  healed, 
lies  utterly  prostrate,  and  "  the  more  part  said,  He  is 
dead."  It  was  a  fearful  exhibition  of  the  disappointed 
malice  of  the  pit.  But  it  only  calls  forth  another  display 
of  the  power  and  love  of  Jesus,  Who  will  not  leave  the 
sufferer  to  a  gradual  recovery,  nor  speak,  as  to  the 
fiend,  in  words  of  mere  authority,  but  reaches  forth 
His  benign  hand,  and  raises  him,  restored.  Here  we 
discover  the  same  heart  which  provided  that  the 
daughter  of  Jairus  should  have  food,  and  delivered  her 


Maikix.  28-37]   JESUS  AND   THE  DISCIPLES.  247 

son  to  the  widow  of  Nain,  and  was  first  to  remind 
others  that  Lazarus  was  encumbered  by  his  grave- 
clothes.  The  good  works  of  Jesus  were  not  melodram- 
atic marvels  for  stage  effect :  they  were  the  natural 
acts  of  supernatural  power  and  love. 

JESUS  AND  THE  DISCIPLES, 

"  And  when  He  was  come  into  the  house,  His  disciples  asked  Him 
privately,  sayings  We  could  not  cast  it  out.  And  He  said  urto  them, 
This  kind  can  come  out  by  nothing,  save  by  prayer.  And  they  wenf. 
forth  from  thence,  and  passed  through  Galilee  ;  and  He  would  not  that 
any  man  should  know  it.  For  He  taught  His  disciples,  and  said  unto 
them,  The  Son  of  man  is  delivered  up  into  the  hands  of  men,  and  they 
shall  kill  Him ;  and  when  He  is  killed,  after  three  days  He  shall  rise 
again.  But  they  understood  not  the  saying,  and  were  afraid  to  ask 
Him.  And  they  came  to  Capernaum  :  and  when  He  was  in  the  house 
He  asked  them,  What  were  ye  reasoning  in  the  way  ?  But  they  held 
their  peace :  for  they  had  disputed  one  with  another  in  the  way,  who 
was  the  greatest.  And  He  sat  down,  ind  called  the  twelve ;  and  He 
saith  unto  them.  If  any  man  would  be  fir?t,  he  shall  be  last  of  all,  and 
minister  of  all.  And  He  took  a  little  child,  and  set  him  in  the  midst 
of  them  :  and  taking  him  in  His  arms,  He  said  unto  them.  Whosoever 
shall  receive  one  of  such  little  children  in  My  name,  receiveth  Me  ;  and 
whosoever  receiveth  Me,  receiveth  not  Me  but  Him  that  sent  Me." — 
MARKix.  28-37  (R.V.). 

When  the  apostles  had  failed  to  expel  the  demon  from 
the  child,  they  gave  a  very  natural  expression  to  their 
disappointment.  Waiting  until  Jesus  was  in  private 
and  in  the  house,  they  said,  "  We  for  our  parts  were 
unable  to  cast  it  out."  They  take  no  blame  to  them- 
selves. The  tone  is  rather  of  perplexity  and  complaint 
because  the  commission  formerly  received  had  not  held 
good.  And  it  implies  the  question  which  is  plainly 
expressed  by  St.  Matthew,  Why  could  we  not  cast  it 
out  ?  Their  very  unconsciousness  of  personal  blame 
is  ominous,  and  Jesus  replies  that  the  fault  is  entirely 
their  own.     They  ought  to  have  stimulated,  as  He  did 


£48  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARIC. 

afterwards,  what  was  flagging  but  not  absent  in  the 
father,  what  their  failure  must  have  daunted  further  in 
him.  Want  of  faith  had  overcome  them,  says  the 
fuller  account :  the  brief  statement  in  St.  Mark  is,  "  This 
kind  (of  demon)  can  come  out  by  nothing  but  by 
prayer  "  ;  to  which  fasting  was  added  as  a  second  con- 
dition by  ancient  copyists,  but  without  authority.  What 
is  important  is  to  observe  the  connection  between  faith 
and  prayer ;  so  that  while  the  devil  would  only  have 
gone  out  if  they  had  prayed,  or  even  perhaps  only  if 
they  had  been  men  of  prayer,  yet  their  failure  was 
through  unbelief.  It  plainly  follows  that  prayer  is  the 
nurse  of  faith,  and  would  have  strengthened  it  so  that 
it  should  prevail.  Only  in  habitual  communion  with 
God  can  we  learn  to  trust  Him  aright.  There,  as  we 
feel  His  nearness,  as  we  are  reminded  that  He  bends 
to  hear  our  cry,  as  the  sense  of  eternal  and  perfect 
power  blends  with  that  of  immeasurable  love,  and  His 
sympathy  becomes  a  realized  abiding  fact,  as  our  vain- 
glory is  rebuked  by  confessions  of  sin,  and  of  depend- 
ence, it  is  made  possible  for  man  to  wield  the  forces  of 
the  spiritual  world  and  yet  not  to  be  intoxicated  with 
pride.  The  nearness  of  God  is  inconsistent  with 
boastfulness  of  man.  For  want  of  this,  it  was  better 
that  the  apostles  should  fail  and  be  humbled,  than 
succeed  and  be  puffed  up. 

There  are  promises  still  unenjoyed,  dormant  and 
unexercised  powers  at  the  disposal  of  the  Church 
to-day.  If  in  many  Christian  families  the  children  are 
not  practically  holy,  if  purity  and  consecration  are  not 
leavening  our  Christian  land,  where  after  so  many 
centuries  license  is  but  little  abashed  and  the  faith 
of  Jesus  is  still  disputed,  if  the  heathen  are  not  yet 
given   for   our   Lord's   inheritance   nor   the   uttermost 


Mark  ix.  28-37.]    JESUS  AND   THE  DISCIPLES.  249 

parts  of  the  earth  for  His  possession — why  are  we 
unable  to  cast  out  the  devils  that  afflict  our  race  ?  It 
is  because  our  efforts  are  so  faithless.  And  this  again 
is  because  they  are  not  inspired  and  elevated  by 
sufficient  communion  with  our  God  in  prayer. 

Further  evidences  continued  to  be  given  of  the 
dangerous  state  of  the  mind  of  His  followers,  weighed 
down  by  earthly  hopes  and  fears,  wanting  in  faith  and 
prayer,  and  therefore  open  to  the  sinister  influences 
of  the  thief  who  was  soon  to  become  the  traitor. 
They  were  now  moving  for  the  last  time  through 
Galilee.  It  was  a  different  procession  from  those  glad 
circuits,  not  long  before,  when  enthusiasm  everywhere 
rose  high,  and  sometimes  the  people  would  have 
crowned  Him.  Now  He  would  not  that  any  man 
should  know  it.  The  word  which  tells  of  His  journey 
seems  to  imply  that  He  avoided  the  main  thorough- 
fares, and  went  by  less  frequented  by-ways.  Partly 
no  doubt  His  motives  were  prudential,  resulting  from 
the  treachery  which  He  discerned.  Partly  it  was 
because  His  own  spirit  was  4ieavily  weighed  upon, 
and  retirement  was  what  He  needed  most.  And 
certainly  most  of  all  because  crowds  and  tumult  would 
have  utterly  unfitted  the  apostles  to  learn  the  hard 
lesson,  how  vain  their  daydreams  were,  and  what  a 
trial  lay  before  their  Master. 

We  read  that  ''  He  taught  them  "  this,  which  implies 
more  than  a  single  utterance,  as  also  perhaps  does  the 
remarkable  phrase  in  St.  Luke,  "  Let  these  sayings  sink 
into  your  ears."  When  the  warning  is  examined,  we 
find  it  almost  a  repetition  of  what  they  had  heard  after 
Peter's  great  confession.  Then  they  had  apparently 
supposed  the  cross  of  their  Lord  to  be  such  a  figurative 
one  as  all  His  followers  have  to  bear.     Even  after  the 


2SO  GOSPEL    Ot  ST.    MARK. 

Transfiguration,  the  chosen  three  had  searched  for  a 
meaning  for  the  resurrection  from  the  dead.  But  now, 
when  the  words  were  repeated  with  a  naked,  crude, 
resolute  distinctness,  marvellous  from  the  lips  of  Him 
Who  should  endure  the  reality,  and  evidently  chosen  in 
order  to  beat  down  their  lingering  evasive  hopes,  when 
He  says  "  They  shall  kill  Him,  and  when  He  is  killed, 
after  three  days  He  shall  rise  again,"  surely  they  ought 
to  have  understood. 

In  fact  they  comprehended  enough  to  shrink  from 
hearing  more.  They  did  not  dare  to  lift  the  veil  which 
covered  a  mystery  so  dreadful  ;  they  feared  to  ask 
Him.  It  is  a  natural  impulse,  not  to  know  the  worst. 
Insolvent  tradesmen  leave  their  books  unbalanced.  The 
course  of  history  would  have  run  in  another  channel, 
if  the  great  Napoleon  had  looked  in  the  face  the  need 
to  fortify  his  own  capital  while  plundering  others.  No 
wonder  that  these  Galileans  recoiled  from  searching 
what  was  the  calamity  which  weighed  so  heavily  upon 
the  mighty  spirit  of  their  Master.  Do  not  men  stifle 
the  voice  of  conscience  and  refuse  to  examine  them- 
selves whether  they  are  in  the  faith,  in  the  same  abject 
dread  of  knowing  the  facts,  and  looking  the  inevitable 
in  the  face  ?  How  few  there  are,  who  bear  to  think, 
calmly  and  well,  of  the  certainties  of  death  and  judg- 
ment ? 

But  at  the  appointed  time,  the  inevitable  arrived  for 
the  disciples.  The  only  effect  of  their  moral  cowardice 
was  that  it  found  them  unready,  surprised  and  there- 
fore fearful,  and  still  worse,  prepared  to  forsake  Jesus 
by  having  already  in  heart  drawn  away  from  Him,  by 
having  refused  to  comprehend  and  share  His  sorrows. 
It  is  easy  to  blame  them,  to  assume  that  in  their  place 
we  should  not  have  been  partakers  in  their  evil  deeds, 


Mark  ix.  28-37-]    fESUh   AND    IHE  DISCIPLES.  35, 

to  make  little  of  the  chosen  foundation  stones  upon 
which  Christ  would  build  His  New  Jerusalem.  But 
in  so  doing  we  forfeit  the  sobering  lessons  of  their 
weakness,  who  failed,  not  because  they  were  less  than 
we,  but  because  they  were  not  more  than  mortal.  And 
we  who  censure  them  are  perhaps  indolently  refusing 
day  by  day  to  reflect,  to  comprehend  the  meaning  of 
our  own  lives  and  of  their  tendencies,  to  realize  a 
thousand  warnings,  less  terrible  only  because  they  con- 
tinue to  be  conditional,  but  claiming  more  attention  for 
that  very  reason. 

Contrast  with  their  hesitation  the  noble  fortitude 
with  which  Christ  faced  His  agony.  It  was  His,  and 
their  concern  in  it  was  secondary.  Yet  for  their  sakes 
He  bore  to  speak  of  what  they  could  not  bear  to  hear. 
Therefore  to  Him  there  came  no  surprise,  no  sudden 
shock ;  His  arrest  found  Him  calm  and  reassured  after 
the  conflict  in  the  Garden,  and  after  all  the  preparation 
which  had  already  gone  forward  through  all  these 
latter  days. 

One  only  ingredient  in  His  cup  of  bitterness  is  now 
added  to  those  which  had  been  already  mentioned : 
"The  Son  of  man  is  delivered  up  into  the  hands  of 
men."  And  this  is  the  same  which  He  mentioned  in  the 
Garden  :  "  The  Son  of  man  is  betrayed  into  the  hands 
of  sinners." 

It  was  that  from  which  David  recoiled  when  he  said, 
*'  Let  me  fall  into  the  hands  of  God,  but  let  me  not  fall 
into  the  hands  of  men."  Suffering  has  not  reached  its 
height  until  conscious  malice  designs  the  pang,  and 
says,  "  So  would  we  have  it."  Especially  true  was 
this  of  the  most  tender  of  all  hearts.  Yet  this  also 
Jesus  foreknew,  while  He  steadfastly  set  His  face  to  go 
tov  ird  Jerusalem 


252  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

Faithless  inability  to  grapple  with  the  powers  of 
darkness,  faithless  unreadiness  to  share  the  cross  oi 
Jesus,  what  was  to  be  expected  next  ?  Estrangement, 
jealousy  and  ambition,  the  passions  of  the  world  heaving 
in  the  bosom  of  the  Church.  But  while  they  fail  to 
discern  the  spirit  of  Judas,  the  Lord  discerned  theirs, 
and  asked  them  in  the  house,  What  were  ye  reasoning 
in  the  way  ?  It  was  a  sweet  and  gentle  prudence, 
which  had  not  corrected  them  publicly  nor  while  their 
tempers  were  still  ruffled,  nor  in  the  language  of  severe 
rebuke,  for  by  the  way  they  had  not  only  reasoned  but 
disputed  one  with  another,  who  was  the  greatest. 

Language  of  especial  honour  had  been  addressed  to 
Peter.  Three  had  become  possessed  of  a  remarkable 
secret  on  the  Holy  Mount,  concerning  which  hints  on 
one  side,  and  surmises  on  the  other,  may  easily  have 
excited  jealousy.  The  failure  of  the  nine  to  cast  out  the 
devil  would  also,  as  they  were  not  humbled,  render 
them  irritable  and  self-asserting. 

But  they  held  their  peace.  No  one  asserted  his 
right  to  answer  on  behalf  of  all.  Peter,  who  was  so 
willingly  their  spokesman  at  other  times,  did  not  vindicate 
his  boasted  pre-eminence  now.  The  claim  which  seemed 
so  reasonable  while  they  forgot  Jesus,  was  a  thing  to 
blush  for  in  His  presence.  And  they,  who  feared  to 
ask  Him  of  His  own  sufferings,  knew  enough  to  feel  the 
contrast  between  their  temper,  their  thoughts  and  His. 
Would  that  we  too  by  prayer  and  self-examination, 
more  often  brought  our  desires  and  ambitions  into  the 
searching  light  of  the  presence  of  the  lowly  King  of 
kings. 

The  calmness  of  their  Lord  was  in  strange  contrast 
with  their  confusion.  He  pressed  no  further  His 
inquiry,  but  left  them  to  weigh  His  silence  in  this  respect 


Mark  ix.  38-50.]  OFFENCES.  253 

against  their  own.  But  importing  by  His  action  some- 
thing deliberate  and  grave,  He  sat  down  and  called  the 
Twelve,  and  pronounced  the  great  law  of  Christian 
rank,  which  is  lowliness  and  the  lowliest  service.  **  If 
any  man  would  be  the  first,  he  shall  be  the  least  of  all, 
and  the  servant  of  all."  When  Kaisers  and  Popes 
ostentatiously  wash  the  feet  of  paupers,  they  do  not 
really  serve,  and  therefore  they  exhibit  no  genuine 
lowliness.  Christ  does  not  speak  of  the  luxurious 
nursing  of  a  sentiment,  but  of  that  genuine  humility 
which  effaces  itself  that  it  may  really  become  a  servant 
of  the  rest.  Nor  does  He  prescribe  this  as  a  penance, 
but  as  the  appointed  way  to  eminence.  Something 
similar  He  had  already  spoken,  bidding  men  sit  down 
in  the  lowest  room,  that  the  Master  of  the  house  might 
call  them  higher.  But  it  is  in  the  next  chapter,  when 
despite  this  lesson  the  sons  of  Zebedee  persisted  ir. 
claiming  the  highest  places,  and  the  indignation  of  the 
rest  betrayed  the  very  passion  it  resented,  that  Jesus 
fully  explains  how  lowly  service,  that  wholesome 
medicine  for  ambition,  is  the  essence  of  the  very  great- 
ness in  pursuit  of  which  men  spurn  it. 

To  the  precept,  which  will  then  be  more  conveniently 
examined,  Jesus  now  added  a  practical  lesson  of 
amazing  beauty.  In  the  midst  of  twelve  rugged  and 
unsympathetic  men,  the  same  who,  despite  this  action, 
presently  rebuked  parents  for  seeking  the  blessing  of 
Christ  upon  their  babes,  Jesus  sets  a  little  child.  What 
but  the  grace  and  love  which  shone  upon  the  sacred 
face  could  have  prevented  this  little  one  from  being 
utterly  disconcerted?  But  children  have  a  strange 
sensibility  for  love.  Presently  this  happy  child  was 
caught  up  in  His  arms,  and  pressed  to  His  bosom,  and 
there  He  seems  to  have  lain  while  John,  possibly  con- 


a54  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

science-Stricken,  asked  a  question  and  received  an  unex-i 
pected  answer.  And  the  silent  pathetic  trust  of  this  His 
lamb  found  its  way  to  the  heart  of  Jesus,  who  presently 
spoke  of  "these  little  ones  who  believe  in  Me  "  (v.  42). 
Meanwhile  the  child  illustrated  in  a  double  sense 
the  rule  of  greatness  which  He  had  laid  down.  So 
great  is  lowliness  that  Christ  Himself  may  be  found 
in  the  person  of  a  little  child.  And  again,  so  great  is 
service,  that  in  receiving  one,  even  one,  of  the  multitude 
of  children  who  claim  our  sympathies,  we  receive  the 
very  Master ;  and  in  that  lowly  Man,  who  was  among 
them  as  He  that  serveth,  is  manifested  the  very  God  : 
whoso  receiveth  Me  receiveth  not  Me  but  Him  that 
sent  me. 

OFFENCES, 

"John  said  unto  Him,  Master,  we  saw  one  casting  out  devils  in  TV.^ 
Name  :  and  we  forbade  him,  because  he  followed  not  us.  But  Jesus 
said,  Forbid  him  not :  for  there  is  no  man  which  shall  do  a  mighty  work 
in  My  name,  and  be  able  quickly  to  speak  evil  of  Me.  For  he  that  is 
not  against  us  is  for  us.  For  whosoever  shall  give  you  a  cup  of  water 
to  drink,  because  ye  are  Christ's,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  he  shall  in  no 
wise  lose  his  reward.  And  whosoever  shall  cause  one  of  these  little 
ones  that  believe  on  Me  to  stumble,  it  were  better  for  him  if  a  great 
millstone  were  hanged  about  his  neck,  and  he  were  cast  into  the  sea. 
And  if  thy  hand  cause  thee  to  stumble,  cut  it  off :  it  is  good  for  thee  to 
enter  into  life  maimed,  rather  than  having  thy  two  hands  to  go  into  hell, 
into  the  unquenchable  fire.  And  if  thy  foot  cause  thee  to  stumble,  cut 
it  off :  it  is  good  for  thee  to  enter  into  life  halt,  rather  than  having  thy 
two  feet  to  be  cast  into  hell.  And  if  thine  eye  cause  thee  to  stumble, 
cast  it  out :  it  is  good  for  thee  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  with 
one  eye,  rather  than  having  two  eyes  to  be  cast  into  hell ;  where  their 
worm  dieth  not,  and  the  fire  is  not  quenched.  For  every  one  shall  be 
salted  with  fire.  Salt  is  good :  but  if  the  salt  have  lost  its  saltness, 
wherewith  will  ye  season  it  ?  Have  salt  in  yourselves,  and  be  at  peace 
one  with  another."— Mark  ix.  38-50  (R.V.). 

When  Jesus  spoke  of  the  blessedness  of  receiving  in 
His  name  even  a  little  child,  the  conscience  of  St.  John 


Mark  ix.  38-50.  J  OFFENCES.  255 

became  uneasy.  They  had  seen  one  casting  out  devils 
in  that  name,  and  had  fDrbidden  him,  "  because  he 
followeth  not  us."  The  spirit  of  partizanship  which 
these  words  betray  is  somewhat  softer  in  St.  Luke,  but 
it  exists.  He  reports  "  because  he  followeth  not 
(Jesus)  with  us." 

The  behaviour  of  the  disciples  all  through  this  period 
is  unsatisfactory.  From  the  time  when  Peter  contra- 
dicted and  rebuked  Jesus,  down  to  their  final  desertion, 
there  is  weakness  at  every  turn.  And  this  is  a  curious 
example  of  it,  that  immediately  after  having  failed  them- 
selves,* they  should  rebuke  another  for  doing  what  their 
Master  had  once  declared  could  not  possibly  be  an  evil 
work.  If  Satan  cast  out  Satan  his  house  was  divided 
against  itself:  if  the  finger  of  God  was  there  no  doubt 
the  kingdom  of  God  was  come  unto  them. 

It  is  interesting  and  natural  that  St.  John  should 
have  introduced  the  question.  Others  were  usually 
more  forward,  but  that  was  because  he  was  more 
thoughtful.  Peter  went  first  into  the  sepulchre ;  but  he 
first,  seeing  what  was  there,  believed.  And  it  was  he 
who  said  "  It  is  the  Lord,"  although  Peter  thereupon 
plunged  into  the  lake  to  reach  Him.  Discerning  and 
grave  :  such  is  the  character  from  which  his  Gospel 
would  naturally  come,  and  it  belongs  to  him  who  first 
discerned  the  rebuke  to  their  conduct  implied  in  the 
words  of  Jesus.  He  was  right.  The  Lord  answered, 
"  Forbid  him  not,  for  there  is  no  man  which  shall  do  a 
mighty  work  in  My  name,  and  be  able  quickly  to  speak 
evil  of  Me  : "  his  own  action  would  seal  his  hps ;  he 
would  have  committed  himself  Now  this  points  out  a 
very  serious  view  of  human  life,  too  often  overlooked. 

*  That  the  event  was  recent  is  implied  in  the  present  tense  :  "  he 
lt)llo\veLh  not  "  :  "forbid  Inm  not  "  ;  the  matter  is  still  fresh. 


256  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK. 

The  deed  of  to-day  rules  to-morrow ;  one  is  half  en- 
slaved by  the  consequences  of  his  own  free  will.  Let 
no  man,  hesitating  between  two  lines  of  action,  a&k, 
What  harm  in  this  ?  what  use  in  that  ?  without  adding, 
And  what  future  actions,  good  or  evil,  may  they  carry 
in  their  train  ? 

The  man  whom  they  had  rebuked  was  at  least  certain 
to  be  for  a  time  detached  from  the  opponents  of  truth, 
silent  if  not  remonstrant  when  it  v;as  assailed,  diluting 
and  enfeebling  the  enmity  of  its  opponents.  And  so 
Christ  laid  down  the  principle,  "  He  that  is  not  against 
us  is  for  us."  In  St.  Luke  the  words  are  more  plainly 
pointed  against  this  party  spirit,  *'  He  that  is  not  against 
you  is  for  you." 

How  shall  we  reconcile  this  principle  with  Christ's 
declaration  elsewhere,  *'  He  that  is  not  with  Me  is 
against  Me,  and  he  that  gathereth  not  with  Me 
scattereth  "  ? 

It  is  possible  to  argue  that  there  is  no  contradiction 
whatever,  for  both  deny  the  existence  of  a  neutral  class, 
and  from  this  it  equally  follows  that  he  who  is  not  with 
is  against,  and  he  who  is  not  against  is  with  us.  But 
this  answer  only  evades  the  difficulty,  which  is,  that  one 
passage  reckons  seeming  neutraHty  as  friendship,  while 
the  other  denounces  it  as  enmity. 

A  closer  examination  reveals  a  more  profound  recon- 
ciHation.  In  St.  Matthew,  Christ  announced  His  own 
personal  claim  ;  in  St.  Mark  He  declares  that  His  people 
must  not  share  it.  Towards  Christ  Himself,  indifference 
is  practical  rejection.  The  manifestation  of  God  was 
not  made  to  be  criticised  or  set  aside :  He  loves  them 
who  love  Him ;  He  demands  the  hearts  He  died  for ; 
and  to  give  Him  less  is  to  refuse  Him  the  travail  of  His 
soul.     Therefore  He  that  is  not  with  Christ  is  against 


M ark  IX .  3S- 50-  J  ^ FFENCES.  2 5  7 

Him.  The  man  who  boasts  that  he  does  no  harm  but 
makes  no  pretence  of  religion,  is  proclaiming  that  one 
may  innocently  refuse  Christ.  And  it  is  very  noteworthy 
that  St.  Matthew's  aphorism  was  evoked,  Uke  this,  by 
a  question  about  the  casting  out  of  devils.  There  the 
Pharisees  had  said  that  He  cast  out  devils  by  Beelzebub. 
And  Jesus  had  warned  all  who  heard,  that  in  such  a 
controversy,  to  be  indifferent  was  to  deny  him.  Here, 
the  man  had  himself  appealed  to  the  power  of  Jesus. 
He  had  passed,  long  ago,  the  stage  of  cool  semi-con- 
temptuous indifference.  Whether  he  was  a  disciple  of 
the  Baptist,  not  yet  entirely  won,  or  a  later  convert  who 
shrank  from  the  loss  of  al/  things,  what  is  plain  is  that 
he  had  come  far  on  the  way  towards  Jesus.  It  does  not 
follow  that  he  enjoyed  a  saving  faith,  for  Christ  will  at 
last  profess  to  many  who  cast  out  devils  in  His  name, 
that  He  never  knew  them.  But  intellectual  persuasion 
and  some  active  reliance  were  there.  Let  them  beware 
of  crushing  the  germs,  because  they  were  not  yet  deve- 
*loped.  Nor  should  the  disciples  suppose  that  loyalty 
to  their  organization,  although  Christ  was  with  them, 
was  the  same  as  loyalty  to  Him.  "  He  that  is  not 
against  you  is  for  you,"  according  to  St.  Luke.  Nay 
more,  "  He  that  is  not  against  us  is  for  us,"  according 
to  St.  Mark.  But  already  He  had  spoken  the  stronger 
word,  "  He  that  is  not  for  Me  is  against  Me." 

No  verse  has  been  more  employed  than  this  in 
sectarian  controversy.  And  sometimes  it  has  been 
pressed  too  far.  The  man  whom  St.  John  would  have 
silenced  was  not  spreading  a  rival  organization ;  and 
we  know  how  the  same  Apostle  wrote,  long  afterwards, 
of  those  who  did  so:  "  If  they  had  been  of  us,  they  would 
have  continued  with  us ;  but  they  went  out  that  they 
might  be  made  manifest  how  all  they  are  not  of  us" 

17 


CS8  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK, 

(i  John  ii.  19).  This  was  simply  a  doer  of  good  with- 
out ecclesiastical  sanction,  and  the  warning  of  the  text 
is  against  all  who  would  use  the  name  of  discipline 
or  of  order  to  bridle  the  zeal,  to  curb  the  energies,  of 
any  Christian  soul.  But  it  is  at  least  as  often  the  new 
movement  as  the  old  organization  that  would  silence  all 
who  follow  not  with  it. 

But  the  energies  of  Christ  and  His  gospel  can  never 
be  monopolized  by  any  organization  whatsoever.  Every 
good  gift  and  every  perfect  gift,  wherever  we  behold  it, 
is  from  Him. 

All  help,  then,  is  to  be  welcomed ;  not  to  hinder  is  to 
speed  the  cause.  And  therefore  Jesus,  repeating  a 
former  saying,  adds  that  whosoever,  moved  by  the 
name  of  Christ,  shall  give  His  followers  one  cup  of 
water,  shall  be  rewarded.  He  may  be  and  continue 
outside  the  Church ;  his  after  life  may  be  sadly  incon- 
sistent with  this  one  action :  that  is  not  the  question ; 
the  sole  condition  is  the  genuine  motive — one  impulse  of 
true  respect,  one  flicker  of  loyalty,  only  decided  enough 
to  speed  the  weary  ambassador  with  the  simplest  possible 
refreshment,  should  "  in  no  wise  lose  its  reward."  Does 
this  imply  that  the  giver  should  assuredly  enter  heaven  ? 
Alas,  no.  But  this  it  says,  that  every  spark  of  fire  in 
the  smoking  flax  is  tended,  every  gracious  movement 
is  answered  by  a  gift  of  further  grace,  to  employ  or  to 
abuse.  Not  more  surely  is  the  thirsty  disciple  refreshed, 
than  the  feverish  worldliness  of  him  who  just  attains  to 
render  this  service  is  fanned  and  cooled  by  breezes  from 
heaven,  he  becomes  aware  of  a  deeper  and  nobler  life, 
he  is  melted  and  drawn  towards  better  things.  Very 
blessed,  or  very  miserable  is  he  who  cannot  remember 
the  holy  shame,  the  yearning,  the  sigh  because  he  is 
not  always  thus,  which  followed  naturally  upon  some 


Mark  ix.  38-50.]  OFFENCES.  259 

deed,  small  in  itself  perhaps,  but  good  enough  to  be 
inconsistent  with  his  baser  self.  The  deepening  of 
spiritual  capacity  is  one  exceeding  great  reward  of  every 
act  of  loyalty  to  Christ. 

This  was  graciously  said  of  a  deed  done  to  the 
apostles,  despite  their  failures,  rivalries,  and  rebukes 
of  those  who  would  fain  speed  the  common  cause. 
Not,  however,  because  they  were  apostles,  but  *'  be- 
cause ye  are  Christ's."  And  so  was  the  least,  so  was 
the  child  who  clung  to  Him.  But  if  the  slightest  sym- 
pathy with  these  is  thus  laden  with  blessing,  then  to 
hinder,  to  cause  to  stumble  one  such  little  one,  how 
terrible  was  that.  Better  to  die  a  violent  and  shameful 
death,  and  never  sleep  in  a  peaceful  grave. 

There  is  a  worse  peril  than  from  others.  We  our- 
selves may  cause  ourselves  to  stumble.  We  may 
pervert  beyond  recall  things  innocent,  natural,  all  but 
necessary,  things  near  and  dear  and  useful  to  our 
daily  life  as  are  our  very  limbs.  The  loss  of  them  may 
be  so  lasting  a  deprivation  that  we  shall  enter  heaven 
maimed.  But  if  the  moral  evil  is  irrevocably  identified 
with  the  worldly  good,  we  must  renounce  it. 

The  hand  with  its  subtle  and  marvellous  power  may 
well  stand  for  harmless  accomplishments  now  fraught 
with  evil  suggestiveness ;  for  innocent  modes  of  liveli- 
hood which  to  rehnquish  means  crippled  helplessness, 
yet  which  have  become  hopelessly  entangled  with 
unjust  or  at  least  questionable  ways ;  for  the  great 
possessions,  honestly  come  by,  which  the  ruler  would 
not  sell ;  for  all  endowments  which  we  can  no  longer 
hope  to  consecrate,  and  which  make  one  resemble  the 
old  Chaldeans,  whose  might  was  their  god,  who 
sacrificed  to  their  net  and  burned  incense  to  their  drag. 

And  the  foot,  with  its  swiftntss  in  boyhood,  its  plod- 


26o  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 

ding  walk  along  the  pavement  in  maturer  age,  may 
well  represent  the  caprices  of  youth  so  hard  to  curb, 
and  also  the  half-mechanical  habits  which  succeed  to 
these,  and  by  which  manhood  is  ruled,  often  to  its 
destruction.  If  the  hand  be  capacity,  resource,  and 
possession,  the  foot  is  swift  perilous  impulse,  and  also 
fixed  habitude,  monotonous  recurrence,  the  settled  ways 
of  the  world. 

Cut  off  hand  and  foot,  and  what  is  left  to  the  muti-» 
lated  trunk,  the  ravaged  and  desolated  life  ?  Desire 
is  left ;  the  desire  of  the  eyes.  The  eyes  may  not 
touch  the  external  world  ;  all  may  now  be  correct  in 
our  actions  and  intercourse  with  men.  But  yet  greed, 
passion,  inflamed  imagination  may  desecrate  the  temple 
of  the  soul.  The  eyes  misled  Eve  when  she  saw  that 
the  fruit  was  good,  and  David  on  his  palace  roof. 
B-efore  the  eyes  of  Jesus,  Satan  spread  his  third  and 
worst  temptation.  And  our  Lord  seems  to  imply  that 
this  last  sacrifice  of  the  worst  because  the  deepest  evil 
must  be  made  with  indignant  vehemence;  hand  and 
foot  must  be  cut  off",  but  the  eye  must  be  cast  out, 
though  life  be  half  darkened  in  the  process. 

These  latter  days  have  invented  a  softer  gospel, 
which  proclaims  that  even  the  fallen  err  if  they  utterly 
renounce  any  good  creature  of  God,  which  ought  to 
be  received  with  thanksgiving;  that  the  duty  of 
moderation  and  self-control  can  never  be  replaced  by 
renunciation,  and  that  distrust  of  any  lawful  enjoyment 
revives  the  Manichean  heresy.  Is  the  eye  a  good 
creature  of  God  ?  May  the  foot  be  received  with 
thanksgiving  ?  Is  the  hand  a  source  of  lawful  enjoy- 
ment ?  Yet  Jesus  made  these  the  types  of  what  must, 
if  it  has  become  an  occasion  of  stumbling,  be  entirely 
cast  away. 


Mark  ix.  38-50.]  OFFENCES.  261 

He  added  that  in  such  cases  the  choice  is  between 
mutilation  and  the  loss  of  all.  It  is  no  longer  a 
question  of  the  full  improvement  of  every  faculty,  the 
doubling  of  all  the  talents,  but  a  choice  between  living  a 
life  impoverished  and  half  spoiled,  and  going  complete 
to  Gehenna,  to  the  charnel  valley  where  the  refuse 
of  Jerusalem  was  burned  in  a  continual  fire,  and  the 
worm  of  corruption  never  died.  The  expression  is  too 
metaphorical  to  decide  such  questions  as  that  of  the 
eternal  duration  of  punishment,  or  of  the  nature  of  the 
suffering  of  the  lost.  The  metaphors  of  Jesus,  bow- 
ever,  are  not  employed  to  exaggerate  His  meaning,  but 
only  to  express  it.  And  what  He  said  is  this  :  The 
man  who  cherishes  one  dear  and  excusable  occasion 
of  offence,  who  spares  himself  the  keenest  spiritual 
surgery,  shall  be  cast  forth  with  everything  that 
defileth,  shall  be  ejected  with  the  offal  of  the  New 
Jerusalem,  shall  suffer  corruption  like  the  transgressors 
of  whom  Isaiah  first  used  the  tremendous  phrase,  "  their 
worm  shall  not  die,  neither  shall  their  fire  be  quenched," 
shall  endure  at  once  internal  and  external  misery,  as  of 
decomposition  and  of  burning. 

Such  is  the  most  terrible  menace  that  ever  crossed 
the  lips  into  which  grace  was  poured.  And  it  was  not 
addressed  to  the  outcast  or  the  Pharisee,  but  to  His 
own.  They  were  called  to  the  highest  life;  on  them 
the  influences  of  the  world  was  to  be  as  constant  and  as 
disintegrating  as  that  of  the  weather  upon  a  mountain 
top.  Therefore  they  needed  solemn  warning,  and  the 
counter-pressure  of  those  awful  issues  known  to  be 
dependent  on  their  stern  self-discipline.  They  could 
not.  He  said  in  an  obscure  passage  which  has  been 
greatly  tampered  with,  they  could  not  escape  fiery 
suffering  in  some  form.     But  the  fire  which  tried  would 


262  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

preserve  and  bless  them  if  they  endured  it ;  every  one 
shall  be  salted  with  fire.  But  if  they  who  ought  to  be 
the  salt  of  the  world  received  the  grace  of  God  in  vain, 
if  the  salt  have  lost  its  saltness,  the  case  is  desperate 
indeed. 

And  since  the  need  of  this  solemn  warning  sprang 
from  their  rivalry  and  partizanship,  Jesus  concludes 
with  an  emphatic  charge  to  discipline  and  correct 
them*5elves  and  to  beware  of  impeding  others  :  to  be 
searching  in  the  closet,  and  charitable  in  the  church  : 
to  have  salt  in  yourselves,  and  be  at  peace  with  one 
another. 


CHAPTER  X. 

DIVORCE, 

•  And  He  arose  from  thence,  and  cometh  into  the  borders  of  Judaea 
and  beyond  Jordan :  and  multitudes  come  together  unto  Him  again ; 
and,  as  He  was  wont,  He  taught  them  again.  And  there  came  unto  Him 
Pharisees,  and  asked  Him,  Is  it  lawful  for  a  man  to  put  away  his  wife  ? 
tempting  Him.  And  He  answered  and  said  unto  them,  What  did 
Moses  command  you  ?  And  they  said,  Moses  suffered  to  write  a  bill  o{ 
divorcement,  and  to  put  her  away.  But  Jesus  said  unto  them,  For 
your  hardness  of  heart  he  wrote  you  this  commandment.  But  from  the 
beginning  of  the  creation,  Male  and  female  made  He  them.  For  this 
cause  shall  a  man  leave  his  father  and  mother,  and  shall  cleave  to  his 
wife  ;  and  the  twain  shall  become  one  flesh  :  so  that  they  are  no  more 
twain,  but  one  flesh.  What  therefore  God  hath  joined  together,  let  no 
man  put  asunder.  And  in  the  house  the  disciples  asked  Him  again  of 
this  matter.  And  He  saith  unto  them,  Whosoever  shall  put  away  his 
wife,  and  marry  another,  committeth  adultery  against  her :  and  if  she 
herself  shall  put  away  her  husband,  and  marry  another,  she  committeth 
adultery."— Mark  x.  1-12  (R-V). 

IT  is  easy  to  read  without  emotion  that  Jesus  arose 
from  the  scene  of  His  last  discourse,  and  came  into 
the  borders  of  Judaea  beyond  Jordan.  But  not  without 
emotion  did  Jesus  bid  farewell  to  Galilee,  to  the  home 
of  His  childhood  and  sequestered  youth,  the  cradle  of 
His  Church,  the  centre  of  nearly  all  the  love  and  faith 
He  had  awakened.  When  closer  still  to  death,  His 
heart  reverted  to  Galilee,  and  He  promised  that  when 
He  was  risen  He  would  go  thither  before  His  disciples. 
Now  He  had  to  leave  it.  And  we  must  not  forget  that 
every  step  He  took  towards  Jerusalem  was  a  deliberate 


264  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

approach  to  His  assured  and  anticipated  cross.  He 
was  not  like  other  brave  men,  who  endure  death  when 
it  arrives,  but  are  sustained  until  the  crisis  by  a 
thousand  flattering  hopes  and  undefined  possibiHties. 
Jesus  knew  precisely  where  and  how  He  should  suffer. 
And  now,  as  He  arose  from  Galilee,  every  step  said, 
Lo,  I  come  to  do  Thy  will,  O  God. 

As  soon  as  He  entered  Perea  beyond  Jordan,  multi- 
tudes came  to  Him  again.  Nor  did  His  burdened  heart 
repress  His  zeal :  rather  He  found  relief  in  their  impor- 
tunity and  in  His  Father's  business,  and  so,  "as  He 
was  wont.  He  taught  them  again."  These  simple  words 
express  the  rule  He  lived  by,  the  patient  continuance 
in  well-doing  which  neither  hostilities  nor  anxieties 
could  chill. 

Not  long  was  He  left  undisturbed.  The  Pharisees 
come  to  Him  with  a  question  dangerous  in  itself,  be- 
cause there  is  no  conceivable  answer  which  will  not 
estrange  many,  and  especially  dangerous  for  Jesus, 
because  already,  on  the  Mount,  He  has  spoken  upon 
this  subject  words  at  seeming  variance  with  His  free 
views  concerning  sabbath  observance,  fasting,  and  cere- 
monial purity.  Most  perilous  of  all  was  the  decision 
they  expected  when  given  by  a  teacher  already  under 
suspicion,  and  now  within  reach  of  that  Herod  who  had, 
during  the  lifetime  of  his  first  wife,  married  the  wife  of 
a  living  man.  "  Is  it  lawful  for  a  man  to  put  away  his 
wife  for  every  cause  ?  "  It  was  a  decision  upon  this 
very  subject  which  had  proved  fatal  to  th^  forerunner. 

But  Jesus  spoke  out  plainly.  In  a  question  and 
answer  which  are  variously  reported,  what  is  clear  is 
that  He  carefully  distinguished  between  a  command 
and  a  permission  of  Moses.  Divorce  had  been  allowed; 
yes,  but  some  reason  had  been  exacted,  whatever  dis- 


Markx.  I-I2.]  DIVORCE.  265 

putes  might  exist  about  its  needful  gravity,  and  de- 
liberation had  been  enforced  by  demanding  a  legal 
document,  a  writing  of  divorcement.  Thus  conscience 
was  bidden  to  examine  its  motives,  and  time  was  gained 
for  natural  relentings.  But  after  all,  Jesus  declared 
that  divorce  was  only  a  concession  to  their  hardness  of 
heart.  Thus  we  learn  that  Old  Testament  institutions 
were  not  all  and  of  necessity  an  expression  of  the 
Divine  ideal.  They  were  sometimes  a  temporary  con- 
cession, meant  to  lead  to  better  things ;  an  expedient 
rather  than  a  revelation. 

These  words  contain  the  germ  of  St.  Paul's  doctrine 
that  the  law  itself  was  a  schoolmaster,  and  its  function 
temporary. 

To  whatever  concessions  Moses  had  been  driven,  the 
original  and  unshaken  design  of  God  was  that  man  and 
woman  should  find  the  permanent  completion  of  their 
lives  each  in  the  other.  And  this  is  shown  by  three 
separate  considerations.  The  first  is  the  plan  of  the 
creation,  making  them  male  and  female,  and  such  that 
body  and  soul  alike  are  only  perfect  when  to  each  its 
complement  is  added,  when  the  masculine  element  and 
the  feminine  *^  each  fulfils  defect  in  each  .  .  .  the  two- 
celled  heart  beating  with  one  full  stroke  life."  Thus 
by  anticipation  Jesus  condemned  the  tame-spirited 
verdict  of  His  disciples,  that  since  a  man  cannot  relieve 
himself  from  a  union  when  it  proves  galling,  '*  it  is  not 
good  "  to  marry  at  all.  To  this  he  distinctly  answered 
that  such  an  inference  could  not  prove  even  tolerable, 
except  when  nature  itself,  or  else  some  social  wrong,  or 
else  absorbing  devotion  to  the  cause  of  God,  virtually 
cancelled  the  original  design.  But  already  he  had  here 
shown  that  such  prudential  calculation  degrades  man, 
leaves    him  incomplete,  travQ^'ses  the  design  of  God 


266  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK, 

!■■■    Ill      H        -I     ItJUH  W    J»'i  J     ■111     II        I  I.     ..      I    -Ji    ■    J      1^        I     .J       ■  I.  ■!  ■ 

Who  from  the  beginning  of  the  creation  made  them 
male  and  female.  In  our  own  days,  the  relation  between 
the  sexes  is  undergoing  a  social  and  legislative  revolu- 
tion. Now  Christ  says  not  a  word  against  the  equal 
rights  of  the  sexes,  and  in  more  than  one  passage  St. 
Paul  goes  near  to  assert  it.  But  equality  is  not  identity, 
either  of  vocation  or  capacity.  This  text  asserts  the 
separate  and  reciprocal  vocation  of  each,  and  it  is 
worthy  of  consideration,  how  far  the  special  vocation  of 
womanhood  is  consistent  with  loud  assertion  of  her 
"  separate  rights." 

Christ's  second  proof  that  marriage  cannot  be  dis- 
solved without  sin  is  that  glow  of  heart,  that  noble  aban- 
donment, in  which  a  man  leaves  even  father  and  mother 
for  the  joy  of  his  youth  and  the  love  of  his  espousals. 
In  that  sacred  hour,  how  hideous  and  base  a  wanton 
divorce  would  be  felt  to  be.  Now  man  is  not  free  to 
live  by  the  mean,  calculating,  selfish  afterthought,  which 
breathes  Hke  a  frost  on  the  bloom  of  his  noblest  impulses 
and  aspirations.  He  should  guide  himself  by  the  light  of 
his  highest  and  most  generous  intuitions. 

And  the  third  reason  is  that  no  man,  by  any  possibility, 
can  undo  what  marriage  does.  They  two  are  one  flesh  ; 
each  has  become  part  of  the  very  existence  of  the  other ; 
and  it  is  simply  incredible  that  a  union  so  profound,  so 
interwoven  with  the  very  tissue  of  their  being,  should 
lie  at  the  mercy  of  the  caprice  or  the  calculations  of  one 
or  other,  or  of  both.  Such  a  union  arises  from  the  pro- 
foundest  depths  of  the  nature  God  created,  not  from 
mean  cravings  of  that  nature  in  its  degradation ;  and 
like  waters  springing  up  from  the  granite  underneath 
the  soil,  it  may  suffer  stain,  but  it  is  in  itself  free  from 
the  contamination  of  the  fall.  Despite  of  monkish  and 
of  Manichean  slanders,  impure  dreams  pretending  to 


Markx.  I-I2,J  DIVORCE.  267 

especial  purity,  God  is  He  Who  joins  together  man  and 
woman  in  a  bond  which  "  no  man,"  king  or  prelate,  may 
without  guilt  dissolve. 

Of  what  followed,  St.  Mark  is  content  to  tell  us  that 
in  the  house,  the  disciples  pressed  the  question  further. 
How  far  did  the  relaxation  which  Moses  granted 
over-rule  the  original  design?  To  what  extent  was 
every  individual  bound  in  actual  life  ?  And  the  answer, 
given  by  Jesus  to  guide  His  own  people  through  all 
time,  is  clear  and  unmistakeable.  The  tie  cannot  be 
torn  asunder  without  sin.  The  first  marriage  holds, 
until  actual  adultery  poisons  the  pure  life  in  it,  and 
man  or  woman  who  breaks  through  its  barriers  com- 
mits adultery.  The  Baptist's  judgment  of  Herod  was 
confirmed. 

So  Jesus  taught.  Ponder  well  that  honest  unshrink- 
ing grasp  of  soHd  detail,  which  did  not  overlook ,  the 
physical  union  whereof  is  one  fliesh,  that  sympathy  with 
high  and  chivalrous  devotion  forsaking  all  else  for  its 
beloved  one,  that  still  more  spiritual  penetration  which 
discerned  a  Divine  purpose  and  a  destiny  in  the  corre- 
lation of  masculine  and  feminine  gifts,  of  strength  and 
grace,  of  energy  and  gentleness,  of  courage  and  long- 
suffering — observe  with  how  easy  and  yet  firm  a  grasp 
He  combines  all  these  into  one  overmastering  argument 
— remember  that  when  He  spoke,  the  marriage  tie  was 
being  relaxed  all  over  the  ancient  world,  even  as  god- 
less legislation  is  to-day  relaxing  it — reflect  that  with 
such  relaxation  came  inevitably  a  blight  upon  the  family, 
resulting  in  degeneracy  and  ruin  for  the  nation,  while 
every  race  which  learned  the  lesson  of  Jesus  grew  strong 
and  pure  and  happy — and  then  say  whether  this  was 
only  a  Judsean  peasant,  or  the  Light  of  the  World 
Videed. 


t68  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARA. 


CHRIST  AND  LITTLE  CHILDREN, 

**  And  they  brought  unto  Him  little  children,  that  He  should  touch 
them  :  and  the  disciples  rebuked  them.  But  when  Jesus  saw  it,  He 
was  moved  with  indignation,  and  said  unto  them,  Suffer  the  little 
children  to  come  unto  Me  ;  forbid  them  not :  for  of  such  is  the 
kingdom  of  God.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Whosoever  shall  not  receive 
the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child,  he  shall  in  no  wise  enter  therein. 
And  He  took  them  in  His  arms,  and  blessed  them,  laying  His  hands 
upon  them."— Mark  x.  13-16  (R.V.). 

This  beautiful  story  gains  new  loveliness  from  its  con- 
text. The  disciples  had  weighed  the  advantages  and 
disadvantages  of  marriage,  and  decided  in  their  calcu- 
lating selfishness,  that  the  prohibition  of  divorce  made 
it  *'  not  good  for  a  man  to  marry."  But  Jesus  had 
regarded  the  matter  from  quite  a  different  position ; 
and  their  saying  could  only  be  received  by  those  to 
whom  special  reasons  forbade  the  marriage  tie.  It 
was  then  that  the  fair  blossom  and  opening  flower  of 
domestic  life,  the  tenderness  and  winning  grace  of 
childhood,  appealed  to  them  for  a  softer  judgment. 
Little  children  (St.  Luke  says  "  babes  ")  were  brought 
to  Him  to  bless,  to  touch  them.  It  was  a  remarkable 
sight.  He  was  just  departing  from  Perea  on  His  last 
journey  to  Jerusalem.  The  nation  was  about  to  abjure 
its  King  and  perish,  after  having  invoked  His  blood  to 
be  not  on  them  only,  but  on  their  children.  But  here 
were  some  at  least  of  the  next  generation  led  by 
parents  who  revered  Jesus,  to  receive  His  blessing. 
And  who  shall  dare  to  limit  the  influence  exerted  by 
that  benediction  on  their  future  lives  ?  Is  it  forgotten 
that  this  very  Perea  was  the  haven  of  refuge  for  Jewish 
believers  when  the  wrath  fell  upon  their  nation  ? 
Meanwhile  the  fresh  smile  of  their  unconscious,  un- 


Markx.  I3-I6.]     CHRIST  AND  LITTLE  CHILDREN.  269 

Stained,  unforeboding  infancy  met  the  grave  smile  ol 
the  all-conscious,  death-boding  Man  of  Sorrows,  as 
much  purer  as  it  was  more  profound. 

But  the  disciples  were  not  melted.  They  were 
occupied  with  grave  questions.  Babes  could  under- 
stand nothing,  and  therefore  could  receive  no  conscious 
intelligent  enlightenment.  What  then  could  Jesus  do 
for  them  ?  Many  wise  persons  are  still  of  quite  the 
same  opinion.  No  spiritual  influences,  they  tell  us,  can 
reach  the  soul  until  the  brain  is  capable  of  drawing 
logical  distinctions.  A  gentle  mother  may  breathe 
softness  and  love  into  a  child's  nature,  or  a  harsh 
nurse  may  jar  and  disturb  its  temper,  until  the  effects 
are  as  visible  on  the  plastic  face  as  is  the  sunshine  or 
storm  upon  the  bosom  of  a  lake ;  but  for  the  grace  of 
God  there  is  no  opening  yet.  As  if  soft  and  loving 
influences  are  not  themselves  a  grace  of  God.  As  if 
the  world  were  given  certain  odds  in  the  race,  and  the 
powers  of  heaven  were  handicapped.  As  if  the  young 
heart  of  every  child  were  a  place  where  sin  abounds 
(since  he  is  a  fallen  creature,  with  an  original  tendency 
towards  evil),  but  where  grace  doth  not  at  all  abound. 
Such  is  the  unlovely  theory.  And  as  long  as  it  pre- 
vails in  the  Church  we  need  not  wonder  at  the  com- 
pensating error  of  rationalism,  denying  evil  where  so 
many  of  us  deny  grace.  It  is  the  more  amiable  error 
of  the  two.  Since  then  the  disciples  could  not  believe 
that  edification  was  for  babes,  they  naturally  rebuked 
those  that  brought  them.  Alas,  how  often  still  does 
the  beauty  and  innocence  of  childhood  appeal  to  men 
m  vain.  And  this  is  so,  because  we  see  not  the  Divine 
grace,  "the  kingdom  of  heaven,"  in  these.  Their 
weakness  chafes  our  impatience,  their  simplicity  irri- 
tates our  worldliness,  and  their  touching  helplessness 


«7o  GOSPEL  OF  ST.   MARK. 

and  trustfulness  do  not  find  in  us  heart  enough  for  any 
glad  response. 

In  ancient  times  they  had  to  pass  through  the  fire  to 
Moloch,  and  since  then  through  other  fires  :  to  fashion 
when  mothers  leave  them  to  the  hired  kindness  of  a 
nurse,  to  selfishness  when  their  want  appeals  to  our 
charities  in  vain,  and  to  cold  dogmatism,  which  would 
banish  them  from  the  baptismal  font,  as  the  disciples 
repelled  them  from  the  embrace  of  Jesus.  But  He  was 
moved  with  indignation,  and  reiterated,  as  men  do  when 
they  feel  deeply,  "Suffer  the  little  children  to  come 
unto  Me  ;  forbid  them  not."  And  He  added  this  con- 
clusive reason,  "  for  of  such,"  of  children  and  childlike 
men,  "  is  the  kingdom  of  God." 

What  is  the  meaning  of  this  remarkable  assertion  ? 
To  answer  aright,  let  us  return  in  fancy  to  the  morn- 
ing of  our  days ;  let  our  flesh,  and  all  our  primitive 
being,  come  back  to  us  as  those  of  a  little  child. 

We  were  not  faultless  then.  The  theological  dogma 
of  original  sin,  however  unwelcome  to  many,  is  in 
harmony  with  all  experience.  Impatience  is  there,  and 
many  a  childish  fault;  and  graver  evils  develop  as 
surely  as  life  unfolds,  just  as  weeds  show  themselves 
in  summer,  the  germs  of  which  were  already  mingled 
with  the  better  seed  in  spring.  It  is  plain  to  all 
observers  that  the  weeds  of  human  nature  are  latent 
in  the  early  soil,  that  this  is  not  pure  at  the  beginning 
of  each  individual  life.  Does  not  our  new-fangled 
science  explain  this  fact  by  telling  us  that  we  have  still 
in  our  blood  the  transmitted  influences  of  our  ancestors 
the  bxiites  ? 

But  Christ  never  meant  to  say  that  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  was  only  for  the  immaculate  and  stainless.  If 
converted  men  receive  it,  in  spite  of  many  a  haunting 


Malkx.i3-i6.]     CHRIST  AND  LITTLE  CHILDREN.  271 

appetite  and  recurring  lust,  then  the  frailties  of  our 
babes  shall  not  forbid  us  to  believe  the  blessed  assur- 
ance that  the  kingdom  is  also  theirs. 

How  many  hindrances  to  the  Divine  life  fall  away 
from  us,  as  our  fancy  recalls  our  childhood.  What 
weary  and  shameful  memories,  base  hopes,  tawdry 
splendours,  envenomed  pleasures,  entangling  associa- 
tions vanish,  what  sins  need  to  be  confessed  no  longer, 
how  much  evil  knowledge  fades  out  that  we  never  now 
shall  quite  unlearn,  which  haunts  the  memory  even 
though  the  conscience  be  absolved  from  it.  The  days 
of  our  youth  are  not  those  evil  days,  when  anything 
within  us  saitli.  My  soul  hath  no  pleasure  in  the 
ways  of  God. 

When  we  ask  to  what  especial  qualities  of  childhood 
did  Jesus  attach  so  great  value,  two  kindred  attributes 
are  distinctly  indicated  in  Scripture. 

One  is  humility.  The  previous  chapter  showed  us 
a  little  child  set  in  the  midst  of  the  emulous  disciples, 
whom  Christ  instructed  that  the  way  to  be  greatest  was 
to  become  like  this  little  child,  the  least. 

A  child  is  not  humble  through  affectation,  it  never 
professes  nor  thinks  about  humility.  But  it  under- 
stands, however  imperfectly,  that  it  is  beset  by  mys- 
terious and  perilous  forces,  which  it  neither  compre- 
hends nor  can  grapple  with.  And  so  are  we.  Therefore 
all  its  instincts  and  experiences  teach  it  to  submit,  to 
seek  guidance,  not  to  put  its  own  judgment  in  competi- 
tion with  those  of  its  appointed  guides.  To  them, 
therefore,  it  clings  and  is  obedient. 

Why  is  it  not  so  with  us  ?  Sadly  we  also  know  the 
peril  of  self-will,  the  misleading  power  of  appetite  and 
passion,  the  humiliating  failures  which  track  the  steps 
of  self-assertiif  n,  the  distortion  of  our  judgments,  the 


27S  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

feebleness  of  our  wills,  the  mysteries  of  life  and  death 
amid  which  we  grope  in  vain.  Milton  anticipated  Sir 
Isaac  Newton  in  describing  the  wisest 

"As  children  gathering  pebbles  on  the  shore." 

Par.  Reg.,  iv.  330. 

And  if  this  be  so  true  in  the  natural  world  that 
its  sages  become  as  little  children,  how  much  more 
in  those  spiritual  realms  for  which  our  faculties 
are  still  so  infantile,  and  of  which  our  experience  is 
so  rudimentary.  We  should  all  be  nearer  to  the 
kingdom,  or  greater  in  it,  if  we  felt  our  dependence, 
and  Uke  the  child  were  content  to  obey  our  Guide  and 
cling  to  Him. 

The  second  childlike  quality  to  which  Christ  attached 
value  was  readiness  to  receive  simply.  Dependence 
naturally  results  from  humility.  Man  is  proud  of 
his  independence  only  because  he  relies  on  his  own 
powers ;  when  these  are  paralysed,  as  in  the  sickroom 
or  before  the  judge,  he  is  willing  again  to  become  a 
child  in  the  hands  of  a  nurse  or  of  an  advocate.  In  the 
realm  of  the  spirit  these  natural  powers  are  paralysed. 
Learning  cannot  resist  temptation,  nor  wealth  expiate 
a  sin.  And  therefore,  in  the  spiritual  world,  M^e  are 
meant  to  be  dependent  and  receptive. 

Christ  taught,  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  that  to 
those  who  asked  Him,  God  would  give  His  Spirit  as 
earthly  parents  give  good  things  to  their  children. 
Here  also  we  are  taught  to  accept,  to  receive  the 
kingdom  as  little  children,  not  flattering  ourselves  that 
our  own  exertions  can  dispense  with  the  free  gift,  not 
unwilling  to  become  pensioners  of  heaven,  not  dis- 
trustful of  the  heart  which  grants,  not  finding  the 
bounties  irkiome  which  are  prompted  by  a   Fathers' 


Markx.i3-i6.J     CHRIST  AND  LITTLE  CHILDREN.  373 

love.  What  can  be  more  charming  hi  its  gracefuhiess 
than  the  reception  of  a  favour  by  an  affectionate  child. 
His  glad  and  confident  enjoyment  are  a  picture  of  what 
ours  might  be. 

Since  children  receive  the  kingdom,  and  are  a  pattern 
for  us  in  doing  so,  it-is  clear  that  they  do  not  possess 
the  kingdom  as  a  natural  right,  but  as  a  gift.  But 
since  they  do  receive  it,  they  must  surely  be  capable  of 
receiving  also  that  sacrament  which  is  the  sign  and  seal 
of  it.  It  is  a  startHng  position  indeed  which  denies 
admission  into  the  visible  Church  to  those  of  whom  is 
the  kingdom  of  God.  It  is  a  position  taken  up  only 
because  many,  who  would  shrink  from  any  such  avowal, 
half-unconsciously  believe  that  God  becomes  gracious 
to  us  only  when  His  grace  is  attracted  by  skilful 
movements  upon  our  part,  by  conscious  and  well- 
instructed  efforts,  by  penitence,  faith  and  orthodoxy. 
But  whatever  soul  is  capable  of  any  taint  of  sin  must 
be  capable  of  compensating  influences  of  the  Spirit,  by 
Whom  Jeremiah  was  sanctified,  and  the  Baptist  was 
filled,  even  before  their  birth  into  this  world  (Jer.  i.  5  ; 
Luke  i.  1 5).  Christ  Himself,  in  Whom  dwelt  bodily  all 
the  fulness  of  the  Godhead,  was  not  therefore  incapable 
of  the  simpHcity  and  dependence  of  infancy. 

Having  taught  His  disciples  this  great  lesson,  Jesus 
let  His  affections  loose.  He  folded  the  children  in  His 
tender  and  pure  embrace,  and  blessed  them  much, 
laying  His  hands  on  them,  instead  of  merely  touching 
them.  He  blessed  them  not  because  they  were  baptized. 
But  we  baptize  our  children,  because  all  such  have 
received  the  blessing,  and  are  clasped  in  the  arms  of 
the  Founder  of  the  Church. 


18 


274  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK. 


THE  RICH  INQUIRER, 

'*  And  as  He  wa;  going  forth  into  the  way,  there  ran  one  to  Him, 

and  kneeled  to  Him,  and  asked  Him,  Good  Master,  what  shall  I  do 
that  I  may  inherit  eternal  life  ?  And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Why  callest 
thou  Me  good?  nom  is  good  save  one,  even  God.  Thou  knowest 
the  couimandments,  Do  not  kill,  Do  not  commit  adultery,  Do  not  steal, 
Do  not  bear  false  witness,  Do  not  defraud,  Honour  thy  father  and 
mother.  And  He  said  unto  him,  Master,  all  these  things  have  I  ob- 
served from  my  youth.  And  Jesus  looking  upon  him  loved  him,  and 
said  unto  him,  One  thing  thou  lackest :  go,  sell  whatsoever  thou  hast, 
and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in  heaven :  and 
come,  folUw  Me.  But  his  countenance  fell  at  the  saying,  and  he 
went  away  sorrowful :  for  he  was  one  that  had  great  possessions." — 
Mark  x.  17-22  (R.V.). 

The  excitement  stirred  by  our  Lord's  teaching  must 
often  have  shown  itself  in  a  scene  of  eagerness  like 
this  which  St.  Mark  describes  so  well.  The  Saviour 
is  just  "  g  ing  forth  "  when  one  rushes  to  overtake  Him, 
and  kneels  down  to  Him,  full  of  the  hope  of  a  great 
discovery.  He  is  so  frank,  so  innocent  and  earnest,  as 
to  win  the  love  of  Jesus.  And  yet  he  presently  goes 
away,  not  as  he  came,  but  with  a  gloomy  forehead  and 
a  heavy  heart,  and  doubtless  with  slow  reluctance. 

The  authorities  were  now  in  such  avowed  opposi- 
tion that  to  be  Christ's  disciple  was  disgraceful  if  not 
dangerous  to  a  man  of  mark.  Yet  no  fear  withheld 
this  young  ruler  who  had  so  much  to  lose ;  he  would 
not  come  by  night,  like  Nicodemus  before  the  storm 
had  gathered  which  was  now  so  dark ;  he  openly 
avowed  his  belief  in  the  goodness  of  the  Master,  and 
his  own  ignorance  of  some  great  secret  which  Jesus 
could  reveal. 

There  is  indeed  a  charming  frankness  in  his  bearing, 
so  that  we  admire  even  his  childlike  assertion  of  his 
own  virtues,   while  the  heights  of  a  nobility  yet  un- 


MarkA.i7-aa.l  THE  RICH  INQUIRER,  375 

attained  are  clearly  possible  for  one  so  dissatisfied,  so 
anxioui  for  a  higher  life,  so  urgent  in  his  questioning, 
What  shall  I  do  ?  What  lack  I  yet  ?  That  is  what 
makes  the  difference  between  the  Pharisee  who  thanks 
God  that  he  is  not  as  other  men,  and  this  youth  who 
has  kept  all  the  commandments,  yet  would  fain  be 
other  than  he  is,  and  readily  confesses  that  all  is  not 
enough,  that  some  unknown  act  still  awaits  achieve- 
ment. The  goodness  which  thinks  itself  upon  the 
summit  will  never  toil  much  farther.  The  conscience 
that  is  really  awake  cannot  be  satisfied,  but  is  perplexed 
rather  and  baffled  by  the  virtues  of  a  dutiful  and  well- 
ordered  life.  For  a  chasm  ever  yawns  between  the 
actual  and  the  ideal,  what  we  have  done  and  what  we 
fain  would  do.  And  a  spiritual  glory,  undefined  and 
perhaps  undefinable,  floats  ever  before  the  eyes  of 
all  men  whom  the  god  of  this  world  has  not  blinded. 
This  inquirer  honestly  thinks  himself  not  far  from 
the  great  attainment ;  he  expects  to  reach  it  by  some 
transcendant  act,  some  great  deed  done,  and  for  this  he 
has  no  doubt  of  his  own  prowess,  if  only  he  were  well 
directed.  What  shall  I  do  that  I  may  have  eternal 
life,  not  of  grace,  but  as  a  debt — that  I  may  inherit  it  ? 
Thus  he  awaits  direction  upon  the  road  where  heathenism 
and  semi-heathen  Christianity  are  still  toiling,  and  all 
who  would  purchase  the  gift  of  God  with  money  or  toil 
or  merit  or  bitterness  of  remorseful  tears. 

One  easily  foresees  that  the  reply  of  Jesus  will  dis- 
appoint and  humble  him,  but  it  startles  us  to  see  him 
pointed  back  to  works  and  to  the  law  of  Moses. 

Again,  we  observe  that  what  this  inquirer  seeks  he 
very  earnestly  believes  Jesus  to  have  attained.  And 
it  is  no  mean  tribute  to  the  spiritual  elevation  of  our 
Lord,  no  doubtful  indication  that  amid  perils  and  con- 


276  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MAKK. 

tradictions  and  on  His  road  to  the  cross  the  peace  of 
God  sat  visibly  upon  His  brow,  that  one  so  pure  and 
yet  so  keenly  aware  that  his  own  virtue  sufficed  not, 
and  that  the  kingdom  of  God  was  yet  unattained,  should 
kneel  in  the  dust  before  the  Nazarene,  and  beseech 
this  good  Master  to  reveal  to  him  all  his  questioning. 
It  was  a  strange  request,  and  it  was  granted  in  an  un- 
locked for  way.  The  demand  of  the  Chaldean  tyrant 
that  his  forgotten  dream  should  be  interpreted  was  not 
so  extravagant  as  this,  that  the  defect  in  an  unknown 
career  should  be  discovered.  It  was  upon  a  lofty 
pedestal  indeed  that  this  ruler  placed  our  Lord 

And  yet  his  question  supplies  the  clue  to  that  answer 
of  Christ  which  has  perplexed  so  many.  The  youth  is 
seeking  for  himself  a  purely  human  merit,  indigenous 
and  underived.  And  the  same,  of  course,  is  what  he 
ascribes  to  Jesus,  to  Him  who  is  so  far  from  claiming 
independent  human  attainment,  or  professing  to  be 
what  this  youth  would  fain  become,  that  He  said,  '^The 
Son  can  do  nothing  of  Himself.  .  .  I  can  of  Mine  own 
self  do  nothing."  The  secret  of  His  human  perfection 
is  the  absolute  dependence  of  His  humanity  upon  God, 
with  Whom  He  is  one.  No  wonder  then  that  He 
repudiates  any  such  goodness  as  the  ruler  had  in  view. 

The  Socinian  finds  quite  another  meaning  in  His 
reply,  and  urges  that  by  these  words  Jesus  denied  His 
Deity.  There  is  none  good  but  one.  That  is  God,  was 
a  reason  why  He  should  not  be  called  so.  Jesus  how- 
ever does  not  remonstrate  absolutely  against  being  called 
good,  but  against  being  thus  addressed  from  this  ruler's 
point  of  view,  by  one  who  regards  Him  as  a  mere 
teacher  and  expects  to  earn  the  same  title  for  himself 
And  indeed  the  Socinian  who  appeals  to  this  text 
grasps  a  sword  by  the  blade.     For  if  it  denied  Christ's 


Mark  X.  17-22.]  THE  RICH  INQUIRER,  m 

divinity  it  must  exactly  to  the  same  extent  deny  also 
Christ's  goodness,  which  he  admits.  Now  it  is  beyond 
question  that  Jesus  differed  from  all  the  saints  in  the 
serene  confidence  with  which  He  regarded  the  moral 
law,  from  the  time  when  He  received  the  baptism  of 
repentance  only  that  He  might  fulfil  all  righteousness, 
to  the  hour  when  He  cried,  "  Why  hast  Thou  forsaken 
Me  ?  "  and  although  deserted,  claimed  God  as  still  His 
God.  The  saints  of  to-day  were  the  penitents  of 
yesterday.  But  He  has  finished  the  work  that  was 
given  Him  to  do.  He  knows  that  God  hears  Him 
always,  and  in  Him  the  Prince  of  this  world  hath 
nothing.  And  yet  there  is  none  good  but  God.  Who 
then  is  He?  If  this  saying  does  not  confess  what  is 
intolerable  to  a  reverential  Socinian,  what  Strauss  and 
Renan  shrank  from  insinuating,  what  is  alien  to  the 
whole  spirit  of  the  Gospels,  and  assuredly  far  from 
the  mind  of  the  evangelists,  then  it  claims  all  that  His 
Church  rejoices  to  ascribe  to  Christ. 

Moreover  Jesus  does  not  deny  even  to  ordinary  men 
the  possibility  of  being  "  good." 

A  good  man  out  of  the  good  treasure  of  his  heart 
bringeth  forth  good  things.  Some  shall  hear  at  last 
the  words,  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant.  The 
children  of  the  kingdom  are  good  seed  among  the  tares. 
Clearly  His  repugnance  is  not  to  the  epithet,  but  to  the 
spirit  in  which  it  is  bestowed,  to  the  notion  that  good- 
ness can  spring  spontaneously  from  the  soil  of  our 
humanity.  But  there  is  nothing  here  to  discourage 
the  highest  aspirations  of  the  trustful  and  dependent 
soul,  who  looks  for  more  grace. 

The  doctrinal  importance  of  this  remarkable  utter- 
ance is  what  most  affects  us,  who  look  back  through 
the  dust  of  a  hundred  controversies      But  it  was  very 


278  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK. 

secondary  at  the  time,  and  what  the  ruler  doubtless 
felt  most  was  a  chill  sense  of  repression  and  perhaps 
despair.  It  was  indeed  the  death-knell  of  his  false 
hopes.  For  if  only  God  is  good,  how  can  any  mortal 
inherit  eternal  life  by  a  good  deed  ?  And  Jesus  goes  on 
to  deepen  this  conviction  by  words  which  find  a  won- 
derful commentary  in  St.  Paul's  doctrine  of  the  function 
of  the  law.  It  was  to  prepare  men  for  the  gospel  by  a 
challenge,  by  revealing  the  standard  cf  true  righteous- 
ness, by  saying  to  all  who  seek  to  earn  heaven,  ''The 
man  that  doeth  these  things  shall  live  by  them."  The 
attempt  was  sure  to  end  in  failure,  for,  "  by  the  law  is 
the  knowledge  of  sin."  It  was  exactly  upon  this  prin- 
ciple that  Jesus  said  ''Keep  the  commandments,"  spirit- 
ualizing them,  as  St.  Matthew  tells  us,  by  adding  to 
the  injunctions  of  the  second  table,  "Thou  shalt  love 
thy  neighbour  as  thyself,"  which  saying,  we  know, 
briefly  comprehends  them  all. 

But  the  ruler  knew  not  how  much  he  loved  himself: 
nis  easy  life  had  met  no  searching  and  stern  demand 
until  now,  and  his  answer  has  a  tone  of  relief,  after 
the  ominous  words  he  had  first  heard.  "  Master,"  and 
he  now  drops  the  questionable  adjective,  "  all  these 
have  I  kept  from  my  youth ; "  these  never  were  so 
burdensome  that  he  should  despair ;  not  these,  he 
thinks,  inspired  that  unsatisfied  longing  for  some  good 
thing  yet  undone.  We  pity  and  perhaps  blame  the 
shallow  answer,  and  the  dull  perception  which  it 
betrayed.  But  Jesus  looked  on  him  and  loved  him. 
And  well  it  is  for  us  that  no  eyes  fully  discern  our 
weakness  but  those  which  were  so  often  filled  with 
sympathetic  tears.  He  sees  error  more  keenly  than  the 
sharpest  critic,  but  he  sees  earnestness  too.  And  the 
love  which  desired  all  souls  was  attracted  especially  by 


Mark X.  17-22.]  THE  RICH  INQUIRER,  279 

one  wlio  had  felt  from  his  youth  up  the  obHgation  of 
the  moral  law,  and  had  not  consciously  transgressed  it. 

This  is  not  the  teaching  of  those  vile  proverbs  which 
declare  that  wild  oats  must  be  sown  if  one  would  reap 
good  corn,  and  that  the  greater  the  sinner  the  greater 
will  be  the  saint. 

Nay,  even  religionists  of  the  sensational  school  delight 
in  the  past  iniquities  of  those  they  honour,  not  only  to 
glorify  God  for  their  recovery,  nor  with  the  joy  which 
is  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth,  but  as  if  these  possess  through  their  former 
wickedness  some  passport  to  special  service  now.  Yet 
neither  in  Scripture  nor  in  the  history  of  the  Church 
will  it  appear  that  men  of  licentious  revolt  against 
known  laws  have  attained  to  usefulness  of  the  highest 
order.  The  Baptist  was  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost 
from  his  mother's  womb.  The  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles 
was  blameless  as  touching  the  righteousness  of  the  law. 
And  each  Testament  has  a  special  promise  for  those 
who  seek  the  Lord  early,  who  seek  His  kingdom  and 
righteousness  first.  The  undefiled  are  nearest  to  the 
throne. 

Now  mark  how  endearing,  how  unlike  the  stern  zeal 
of  a  propagandist,  was  Christ's  tender  and  loving  gaze ; 
and  hear  the  encouraging  promise  of  heavenly  treasure, 
and  offer  of  His  own  companionship,  which  presently 
softened  the  severity  of  His  demand ;  and  again,  when 
all  failed,  when  His  followers  doubtless  scorned  the 
deserter,  ponder  the  truthful  and  compassionate  words, 
How  hard  it  is  I 

Yet  will  Christ  teach  him  how  far  the  spirit  of  the  law 
pierces,  since  the  letter  has  not  wrought  the  knowledge 
of  sin.  If  he  loves  his  neighbour  as  himself,  let  his 
needier  neighbour  receiv*'  what  he  most  values.     If  he 


28o  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


loves  God  supremely,  let  him  be  content  with  treasure 
in  the  hands  of  God,  and  with  a  discipleship  which 
shall  ever  reveal  to  him,  more  and  more  profoundly,  the 
will  of  God,  the  true  nobility  of  man,  and  the  way  to 
that  eternal  life  he  seeks. 

The  socialist  would  justify  by  this  verse  a  universal 

confiscation.      But    he    forgets    that    the    spirit    which 

seizes  all  is  widely  different  from  that  which  gives  all 

freely  :    that  Zacchaeus  retained  half  his  goods  ;    that 

Joseph  of  Arimathea  was  rich ;   that  the  property  of 

Ananias  was  his  own,  and  when  he  sold  it  the  price 

was  in  his  own  power ;  that  St.  James  warned  the  rich 

in  this  world  only  against  trusting  in  riches  instead  of 

trusting  God,  who  gave  them  all  richly,  for  enjoyment, 

although  not  to  be  confided  in.     Soon  after  this  Jesus 

accepted  a  feast    from    his    friends    in    Bethany,    and 

ebriked  Judas  who  complained   that  a  costly  luxury 

ha<l  not  been  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor.     Why 

then  is  his  demand  now  so  absolute  ?     It  is  simply  an 

application  of  his  bold  universal  rule,  that  every  cause 

of  stumbling  must  be  sacrificed,  be  it  innocent  as  hand 

01   foot  or  eye.     And  affluent  indeed  would  be  all  the 

cJiarities  and  missions  of  the  Church  in   these  latter 

days,  if  the  demand  were  obeyed  in   cases  where  it 

really  appHes,  if  every  luxury  which  enervates  and  all 

pon.ip  which  intoxicates  were  sacrificed,  if  all  who  know 

t^  lat  wealth  is  a  snare  to  them  corrected  their  weakness 

by  rigorous  discipline,  their  unfruitfulness  by  a  sharp 

pruning  of  superfluous  frondage. 

The  rich  man  neither  remonstrated  nor  defended 
himself.  His  self-confidence  gave  way.  He  felt 
that  what  he  could  not  persuade  himself  to  do  was  a 
'^  good  thing."  And  he  who  came  running  went  away 
sorrowful,    and  with  a  face  "  lowering  "    like    the  sky 


Mark  X.  23-3 1 •]      ^^O    IHhN  CAN  BE  SAVEDi  s8i 

which  forebodes  "  foul  weather."  That  is  too  often 
the  issue  of  such  vaunting  offers.  Yet  feeHng  his 
weakness,  and  neither  resisting  nor  upbraiding  the 
faithfulness  which  exposes  him,  doubtless  he  was  long 
disquieted  by  new  desires,  a  strange  sense  of  failure 
and  unworthiness,  a  clearer  vision  of  that  higher  life 
which  had  already  haunted  his  reveries.  Henceforward 
he  had  no  choice  but  to  sink  to  a  baser  contentment, 
or  else  rise  to  a  higher  self-devotion.  Who  shall  say, 
because  he  failed  to  decide  then,  that  he  persisted  for 
ever  in  the  great  refusal  ?  Yet  was  it  a  perilous  and 
hardening  experience,  and  it  was  easier  henceforward 
to  live  below  his  ideal,  when  once  he  had  turned  away 
from  Christ.  Nor  is  there  any  reason  to  doubt  that  the 
inner  circle  of  our  Lord's  immediate  followers  was  then 
for  ever  closed  against  him. 

WHO   THEN  CAN  BE  SA  VED  t 

**  And  Jesus  looked  round  about,  and  saith  unto  His  disciples,  How 
hardly  shall  they  that  have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  ! 
And  the  disciples  were  amazed  at  His  words.  But  Jesus  answereth 
again,  and  saith  unto  them,  Children,  how  hard  is  it  for  them  that 
trust  in  riches  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  !  It  is  easier  for  a 
camel  to  go  through  a  needle's  eye,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  God.  And  they  were  astonished  exceedingly,  saying 
unto  Him,  Then  who  can  be  saved  ?  Jesus  looking  upon  them  saith, 
With  men  it  is  impossible,  but  not  with  God :  for  all  things  are 
possible  with  God.  Peter  began  to  say  unto  Him,  Lo,  we  have  left  all, 
and  have  followed  thee.  Jesus  said.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  There  is  no 
man  that  hath  left  house,  or  brethren,  or  sisters,  or  mother,  or  father,  or 
children,  or  lands,  for  my  sake,  and  for  the  gospel's  sake,  but  he  shall 
receive  a  hundredfold  now  in  this  time,  houses,  and  brethren,  and 
sisters,  and  mothers,  and  children,  and  lands,  with  persecutions ;  and 
in  the  world  to  come  eternal  life.  But  many  that  are  first  shall  be  last ; 
and  the  last  first." — Mark  x.  23-31  (R.V.). 

As  the  rich  man  turned  away  with  the  arrow  in  his 
breast,   Jesus   looked  round   about  on    His   disciples 


383  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

The  Gospels,  and  especially  St.  Mark,  often  mention 
the  gaze  of  Jesus,  and  all  who  know  the  power  of  an 
intense  and  pure  nature  silently  searching  others,  the 
piercing  intuition,  the  calm  judgment  which  sometimes 
looks  out  of  holy  eyes,  can  well  understand  the  reason. 
Disappointed  love  was  in  His  look,  and  that  compas- 
sionate protest  against  harsh  judgments  which  presently 
went  on  to  admit  that  the  necessary  demand  was  hard. 
Some,  perhaps,  who  had  begun  to  scorn  the  ruler  in 
his  defeat,  were  reminded  of  frailties  of  their  own,  and 
had  to  ask,  Shall  I  next  be  judged  ?  And  one  was 
among  them,  pilfering  from  the  bag  what  was  intended 
for  the  poor,  to  whom  that  look  of  Christ  must  have 
been  very  terrible.  Unless  we  remember  Judas,  we 
shall  not  comprehend  all  the  fitness  of  the  repeated 
and  earnest  warnings  of  Jesus  against  covetousness. 
Never  was  secret  sin  dealt  with  so  faithfully  as  his. 

And  now  Jesus,  as  He  looks  around,  says,  '*  How 
hardly  shall  they  that  have  riches  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  God."  But  the  disciples  were  amazed.  To 
the  ancient  Jew,  from  Abraham  to  Solomon,  riches 
appeared  to  be  a  sign  of  the  Divine  favour,  and  if  the 
pathetic  figure  of  Job  reminded  him  how  much  sorrow 
might  befall  the  just,  yet  the  story  showed  even  him  at 
the  end  more  prosperous  than  at  the  beginning.  In  the 
time  of  Jesus,  the  chiefs  of  their  religion  weie  greedily 
using  their  position  as  a  means  of  amassing  enormous 
fortunes.  To  be  told  that  wealth  was  a  positive  hin- 
drance on  the  way  to  God  was  wonderful  indeed. 

When  Jesus  modified  His  utterance,  it  was  not  to 
correct  Himself,  like  one  who  had  heedlessly  gone 
beyond  His  meaning.  His  third  speech  reiterated 
the  first,  declaring  that  a  manifest  and  proverbial 
physical  impossibility  was  not  so  hard  as  for  a  rich 


Mark  X.  2^-31.]      WHO    THEN  CAN  BE  SAVED  f  283 

man  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  God,  here  or  hereafter. 
But  He  interposed  a  saying  which  both  explained  the 
first  one  and  enlarged  its  scope.  *'  Children "  He 
begins,  like  one  who  pitied  their  inexperience  and 
dealt  gently  with  their  perplexities,  "  Children,  how 
hard  is  it  for  them  that  trust  in  riches  to  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  God."  And  therefore  is  it  hard  for  all  the 
rich,  since  they  must  wrestle  against  this  temptation  to 
trust  in  their  possessions.  It  is  exactly  in  this  spirit 
that  St.  James,  who  quoted  Jesus  more  than  any  of  the 
later  wTiters  of  Scripture,  charges  the  rich  that  they 
be  not  high-minded,  nor  trust  in  uncertain  riches,  but 
in  the  living  God.  Immediately  before,  Jesus  had 
told  them  how  alone  the  kingdom  might  be  entered, 
even  by  becoming  as  little  children  ;  lowly,  dependent, 
willing  to  receive  all  at  the  hands  of  a  superior. 
Would  riches  help  them  to  do  this  ?  Is  it  easier  to 
pray  for  daily  bread  when  one  has  much  goods 
laid  up  for  many  years  ?  Is  it  easier  to  feel  that 
God  alone  can  make  us  drink  of  true  pleasures  as 
of  a  river,  when  a  hundred  luxuries  and  indulgences 
mil  us  in  sloth  or  allure  us  into  excess  ?  Hereupon 
the  disciples  perceived  what  was  more  alarming  still, 
that  not  alone  do  rich  men  trust  in  riches,  but  all  who 
confound  possessions  with  satisfaction,  all  who  dream 
that  to  have  much  is  to  be  blessed,  as  if  property  were 
character.  They  were  right.  We  may  follow  the 
guidance  of  Mammon  beckoning  from  afar,  with  a  trust 
as  idolatrous  as  if  we  held  his  hand.  But  who  could 
abide  a  principle  so  exacting  ?  It  was  the  revelation 
of  a  new  danger,  and  they  were  astonished  exceedingly, 
saying.  Then  who  can  be  saved  ?  Again  Jesus  looked 
upon  them,  with  solemn  but  reassuring  gaze.  They 
had    learned    the  secret   of   the   new    litV    the   nqtura^ 


284  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

impossibility  throwing  us  back  in  helpless  appeal  to 
the  powers  of  the  world  to  come.  "  With  men  it  is 
impossible,  but  not  with  God,  for  all  things  are  possible 
with  God." 

Peter,  not  easily  nor  long  to  be  discouraged,  now  saw 
ground  for  hope.  If  the  same  danger  existed  for  rich 
and  poor,  then  either  might  be  encouraged  by  having 
surmounted  it,  and  the  apostles  had  done  what  the  rich 
man  failed  to  do — they  had  left  all  and  followed  Jesus. 
The  claim  has  provoked  undue  censure,  as  if  too  much 
were  made  out  of  a  very  trifling  sacrifice,  a  couple 
cf  boats  and  a  paltry  trade.  But  the  objectors  have 
missed  the  point ;  the  apostles  really  broke  away  from 
the  service  of  the  world  when  they  left  their  nets  and 
followed  Jesus.  Their  world  was  perhaps  a  narrow 
one,  but  He  Who  reckoned  two  mites  a  greater  offering 
than  the  total  of  the  gifts  of  many  rich  casting  in  much, 
was  unlikely  to  despise  a  fisherman  or  a  publican  who 
laid  all  his  living  upon  the  altar.  The  fault,  if  fault 
there  were,  lay  rather  in  the  satisfaction  with  which 
Peter  contemplates  their  decision  as  now  irrevocable  and 
secure,  so  that  nothing  remained  except  to  claim  the 
reward,  which  St.  Matthew  tells  us  he  very  distinctly 
did.  The  young  man  should  have  had  treasure  in 
heaven  :  what  then  should  they  have  ? 

But  in  truth,  their  hardest  battles  with  worldliness 
lay  still  before  them,  and  he  who  thought  he  stood  might 
well  take  heed  lest  he  fell.  They  would  presently  unite 
in  censuring  a  woman's  costly  gift  to  Him,  for  Whom 
they  professed  to  have  surrendered  all.  Peter  himself 
would  shrink  from  his  Master's  side.  And  what  a  satire 
upon  this  confident  claim  would  it  have  been,  could  the 
neart  of  Judas  then  and  there  have  been  revealed  to 
»,hem. 


Mark  X.  23-31.]      ^^O   THEN  CAN  BE  SAVED?  285 

The  answer  of  our  Lord  is  sufficiently  remarkable. 
St.  Matthew  tells  how  frankly  and  fully  He  acknowledged 
their  collective  services,  and  what  a  large  reward  He 
promised,  when  they  should  sit  with  Him  on  thrones, 
judging  their  nation.  So  far  was  that  generous  heart 
from  weighing  their  losses  in  a  worldly  scale,  or  criti- 
cizing the  form  of  a  demand  which  was  not  all  un- 
reasonable. 

But  St.  Mark  lays  exclusive  stress  upon  other  and 
sobering  considerations,  which  also  St.  Matthew  has 
recorded. 

There  is  a  certain  tone  of  egoism  in  the  words,  "  Lo, 
we  .  .  .  what  shall  we  have  ?  "  And  Jesus  corrects  this 
in  the  gentlest  way,  by  laying  down  such  a  general  rule 
as  implies  that  many  others  will  do  the  same,  *'  there  is 
no  man  "  whose  self  sacrifice  shall  go  without  its  reward. 

Secondary  and  lower  motives  begin  to  mingle  with 
the  generous  ardour  of  self-sacrifice  as  soon  as  it  is 
careful  to  record  its  losses,  and  inquire  about  its  wages. 
Such  motives  are  not  absolutely  forbidden,  but  they  must 
never  push  into  the  foremost  place.  The  crown  of  glory 
animated  and  sustained  St.  Paul,  but  it  was  for  Christ, 
and  not  for  this  that  he  suffered  the  loss  of  all  things. 

Jesus  accordingly  demands  purity  of  motive.  The 
sacrifice  must  not  be  for  ambition,  even  with  aspirations 
prolonged  across  the  frontiers  of  eternity  :  it  must  be 
altogether  '^  for  My  sake  and  for  the  gospel's  sake." 
And  here  we  observe  once  more  the  portentous  demand 
of  Christ's  person  upon  His  followers.  They  are  ser- 
vants of  no  ethical  or  theological  system,  however  lofty. 
Christ  does  not  regard  Himself  and  them,  as  alike 
devoted  to  some  cause  above  and  external  to  them  all. 
To  Him  they  are  to  be  consecrated,  and  to  the  gospel, 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  is  the  story  of  His  Life,  Death 


286  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

and  Resurrection.  For  Him  they  are  to  break  the 
dearest  and  strongest  of  earthly  ties.  He  had  just  pro- 
claimed how  indissoluble  was  the  marriage  bond.  No 
man  should  sever  those  whom  God  had  joined.  But  St. 
Luke  informs  us  that  to  forsake  even  a  wife  for  Christ's 
sake,  was  a  deed  worthy  of  being  rewarded  an  hundred- 
fold. Nor  does  He  mention  any  higher  being  in  whose 
name  the  sacrifice  is  demanded.  Now  this  is  at  least 
implicitly  the  view  of  His  own  personality,  which  some 
profess  to  find  only  in  St  John. 

Again,  there  was  perhaps  an  undertone  of  complaint 
in  Peter's  question,  as  if  no  compensation  for  all  their 
sacrifices  were  hitherto  bestowed.  What  should  their 
compensation  be  ?  But  Christ  declares  that  losses  en- 
dured for  Him  are  abundantly  repaid  on  earth,  in  this 
present  time,  and  even  amid  the  fires  of  persecution. 
Houses  and  lands  are  replaced  by  the  consciousness  of  in- 
violable shelter  and  inexhaustible  provision.  "  Whither 
wilt  thou  betake  thyself  to  find  covert  ?  "  asks  the  menac- 
ing cardinal ;  but  Luther  answers,  *'  Under  the  heaven 
of  God."  And  if  dearest  friends  be  estranged,  or  of 
necessity  abandoned,  then,  in  such  times  of  high  attain- 
ment and  strong  spiritual  insight,  membership  in  the 
Divine  family  is  felt  to  be  no  unreal  tie,  and  earthly 
relationships  are  well  recovered  in  the  vast  fraternity 
of  souls.  Brethren,  and  sisters,  and  mothers,  are  thus 
restored  an  hundredfold  ;  but  although  a  father  is  also 
lost,  we  do  not  hear  that  a  hundred  fathers  shall  be 
given  back,  for  in  the  spiritual  family  that  place  is 
reserved  for  One. 

Lastly,  Jesus  reminded  them  that  the  race  was  not 
yet  over ;  that  many  first  shall  be  last  and  the  last  first. 
We  know  how  Judas  by  transgression  fell,  and  how  the 
persecuting  Saul  became  not  a  whit  behind  the  very 


Mark  X.  35-40.]     CHEISrS  CUP  AND  BAPTISM.  287 

chiefest  apostle.  But  this  word  remains  for  the  warning 
and  incitement  of  all  Christians,  even  unto  the  end  of 
the  world.     There  are  "  many  "  such. 

Next  after  this  warning,  comes  yet  another  prediction 
of  His  own  suffering,  with  added  circumstances  of 
horror.  Would  they  who  were  now  first  remain  faith- 
ful ?  or  should  another  take  their  bishopric  ? 

With  a  darkening  heart  Judas  heard,  and  made  his 
choice. 


[Mark  x,  32-34.     See  Mark  viii.  31,  p.  219.] 


CHRISrS  CUP  AND  BAPTISM, 

"  And  there  came  near  unto  him  James  and  John,ithe  sons  of  Zebedec, 
saying  unto  him,  Master,  we  would  that  Thou  shouldst  do  for  us  what- 
soever we  shall  ask  of  Thee.  And  He  said  unto  them,  What  would  ye 
I  should  do  for  you  ?  And  they  said  unto  Him,  Grant  unto  us  that  we  may 
sit,  one  on  Thy  right  hand,  and  one  on  Thy  left  hand,  in  Thy  glory.  But 
Jesus  said  unto  them,  Ye  know  not  what  ye  ask.  Are  ye  able  to  drink 
the  cup  that  I  drink  ?  or  to  be  baptized  with  the  baptism  that  I  am 
baptized  with  ?  And  they  said  unto  Him,  We  are  able.  And  Jesus  said 
unto  them,  The  cup  that  I  drink  ye  shall  drink  ;  and  with  the  baptism 
that  I  am  baptized  withal  shall  ye  be  baptized  :  but  to  sit  on  My  right 
hand  or  on  My  left  hand  is  not  Mine  to  give  :  but  it  is  for  them  for  whom 
it  hath  been  prepared."— Mark  x.  35-40  (R.V.). 

We  learn  from  St.  Matthew  that  Salome  was  associated 
with  her  sons,  and  was  indeed  the  chief  speaker  in  the 
earlier  part  of  this  incident. 

And  her  request  has  commonly  been  regarded  as  the 
mean  and  shortsighted  intrigue  of  an  ambitious  woman, 
recklessly  snatching  at  an  advantage  for  her  family,  and 
unconscious  of  the  stern  and  steep  road  to  honour  in 
the  kingdom  of  Jesus. 

Nor  can  we  deny  that  her  prayer  was  somewhat  pre- 
sumptuous, or  that  it  was  especially  unbecoming  to  aim 


2S8  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK. 

at  entangling  her  Lord  in  a  blindfold  promise,  desiring 
Him  to  do  something  undefined,  "  whatsoever  we  shall 
ask  of  Thee.  "  Jesus  was  too  discreet  to  answer  other- 
wise than,  ^'What  would  ye  that  I  should  do  for  you?" 
And  when  they  asked  for  the  chief  seats  in  the  glory 
that  was  yet  to  be  their  Master's,  no  wonder  that  the 
Ten  hearing  of  it,  had  indignation.  But  Christ's  an- 
swer, and  the  gentle  manner  in  which  He  explains  His 
refusal,  when  a  sharp  rebuke  is  what  we  would  expect 
to  read,  alike  suggest  that  there  may  have  been  some 
softening,  half-justifying  circumstance.  And  this  we 
find  in  the  period  at  which  the  daring  request  was  made. 

It  was  on  the  road,  during  the  last  journey,  when  a 
panic  had  seized  the  company ;  and  our  Lord,  appar- 
ently out  of  the  strong  craving  for  sympathy  which 
possesses  the  noblest  souls,  had  once  more  told  the 
Twelve  what  insults  and  cruel  sufferings  lay  before  Him. 
It  was  a  time  for  deep  searching  of  hearts,  for  the 
craven  to  go  back  and  walk  no  more  with  Him,  and  for 
the  traitor  to  think  of  making  His  own  peace,  at  any 
price,  with  His  Master's  foes. 

But  this  dauntless  woman  could  see  the  clear  sky 
beyond  the  storm.  Her  sons  shall  be  loyal,  and  win 
the  prize,  whatever  be  the  hazard,  and  however  long 
the  struggle. 

Ignorant  and  rash  she  may  have  been,  but  it  was  no 
base  ambition  which  chose  such  a  moment  to  declare 
its  unshaken  ardour,  and  claim  distinction  in  the  king- 
dom for  which  so  much  must  be  endured. 

And  when  the  stern  price  was  plainly  stated,  she  and 
her  children  were  not  startled,  they  conceived  them- 
selves able  for  the  baptism  and  the  cup ;  and  little  as 
they  dreamed  of  the  coldness  of  the  waters,  and  the 
bitterness  of  the  draught,  yet   Jesus  did  not   declare 


Mark  X.  35-40J      CHKISTS  CUP  AND  BAPTISM.  289 

them  to  be  deceived.  He  said,  Ye  shall  indeed  share 
these. 

Nor  can  we  doubt  that  their  faith  and  loyalty  re- 
freshed His  soul  amid  so  much  that  was  sad  and  self- 
ish. He  knew  indeed  on  what  a  dreadful  seat  He  was 
soon  to  claim  His  kingdom,  and  who  should  sit  upon 
His  right  hand  and  His  left.  These  could  not  follow 
Him  now,  but  they  should  follow  Him  hereafter — 
one  by  the  brief  pang  of  the  earliest  apostolic  martyr- 
dom, and  the  other  by  the  longest  and  sorest  expe- 
rience of  that  faithless  and  perverse  generation. 

I.  Very  significant  is  the  test  of  worth  which  Jesus 
propounds  to  them :  not  successful  service  but  en- 
durance ;  not  the  active  but  the  passive  graces.  It  is 
not  our  test,  except  in  a  few  brilliant  and  conspicuous 
martyrdoms.  The  Church,  like  the  world,  has  crowns 
for  learning,  eloquence,  energy ;  it  applauds  the  force 
by  which  great  things  are  done.  The  reformer  who 
abolishes  an  abuse,  the  scholar  who  defends  a  doctrine, 
the  orator  who  sways  a  multitude,  and  the  missionary 
who  adds  a  new  tribe  to  Christendom, — all  these  are 
sure  of  honour.  Our  loudest  plaudits  are  not  for  sim- 
ple men  and  women,  but  for  high  station,  genius,  and 
success.  But  the  Lord  looketh  upon  the  heart,  not  the 
brain  or  the  hand ;  He  values  the  worker,  not  the  work ; 
the  love,  not  the  achievement.  And,  therefore,  one  of 
the  tests  He  constantly  applied  was  this,  the  capability 
for  noble  endurance.  We  ourselves,  in  our  saner 
moments,  can  judge  whether  it  demands  more  grace 
to  refute  a  heretic,  or  to  sustain  the  long  inglorious 
agonies  of  some  disease  which  slowly  gnaws  away  the 
heart  of  life.  And  doubtless  among  the  heroes  for  whom 
Christ  is  twining  immortal  garlands,  there  is  many  a 
pale  and  shattered   creature,   nerveless  and  unstrung, 

19 


age  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK, 

tossing  on  a  mean  bed,  breathing  in  imperfect  English 
loftier  praises  than  many  an  anthem  which  resounds 
through  cathedral  arches,  and  laying  on  the  altar  of 
burnt  sacrifice  all  he  has,  even  his  poor  frame  itself,  to 
be  racked  and  tortured  without  a  murmur.  Culture  has 
never  heightened  his  forehead  nor  refined  his  face  :  we 
look  at  him,  but  little  dream  what  the  angels  see,  or 
how  perhaps  because  of  such  an  one  the  great  places 
which  Salome  sought  were  not  Christ's  to  give  away 
except  only  to  them  for  whom  it  was  prepared.  For 
these,  at  last,  the  reward  shall  be  His  to  give,  as  He 
said,  *'To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  give  to  sit  down 
with  Me  upon  My  throne." 

2.  Significant  also  are  the  phrases  by  which  Christ 
expressed  the  sufferings  of  His  people.  Some,  which 
it  is  possible  to  escape,  are  voluntarily  accepted  for 
Christ's  sake,  as  when  the  Virgin  mother  bowed  her  head 
to  slander  and  scorn,  and  said,  ''  Behold  the  servant  of 
the  Lord,  be  it  unto  me  according  to  Thy  word."  Such 
sufferings  are  a  cup  deliberately  raised  by  one's  own 
hand  to  the  reluctant  lips.  Into  other  sufferings  we 
are  plunged  :  they  are  inevitable.  Malice,  ill-health,  or 
bereavement  plies  the  scourge ;  they  conie  on  us  like 
the  rush  of  billows  in  a  storm ;  they  are  a  deep  and 
dreadful  baptism.  Or  we  may  say  that  some  woes  are 
external,  visible,  we  are  seen  to  be  submerged  in  them ; 
but  others  are  Hke  the  secret  ingredients  of  a  bitter 
draught,  which  the  lips  know,  but  the  eye  of  the 
bystander  cannot  analyze.  But  there  is  One  Who 
knows  and  rewards ;  even  the  Man  of  Sorrows  Who 
said.  The  cup  which  My  heavenly  Father  giveth,  shall 
1  not  drink  it  ? 

Now  it  is  this  standard  of  excellence,  announced  by 
Jesus,  which  shall  give  high  place  to  many  of  the  poor 


Mark  X.  35-40.]     CHRIST'S  CUP  AND  BAPTISM.  291 

and  ignorant  and  weak,  when  rank  shall  perish,  when 
tongues  shall  cease,  and  when  our  knowledge,  in  the 
blaze  of  new  revelations,  shall  utterly  vanish  away,  not 
quenched,  but  absorbed  like  the  starlight  at  noon. 

3.  We  observe  again  that  men  are  not  said  to  drink 
of  another  cup  as  bitter,  or  to  be  baptized  in  other 
waters  as  chill,  as  tried  their  Master;  but  to  share 
His  very  baptism  and  His  cup.  Not  that  we  can  add 
anything  to  His  all-sufficient  sacrifice.  Our  goodness 
extendeth  not  to  God.  But  Christ's  work  availed  not 
only  to  reconcile  us  to  the  Father,  but  also  to  elevate 
and  consecrate  sufferings  which  would  otherwise  have 
been  penal  and  degrading.  Accepting  our  sorrows  in 
the  grace  of  Christ,  and  receiving  Him  into  our  hearts, 
then  our  sufferings  fill  up  that  which  is  lacking  of  the 
afflictions  of  Christ  (Col.  i.  24),  and  at  the  last  He  will 
say,  when  the  glories  of  heaven  are  as  a  robe  around 
Him,  "  I  was  hungry,  naked,  sick,  and  in  prison  in  the 
person  of  the  least  of  these." 

Hence  it  is  that  a  special  nearness  to  God  has  ever 
been  felt  in  holy  sorrow,  and  in  the  pain  of  hearts 
which,  amid  all  clamours  and  tumults  of  the  world, 
are  hushed  and  calmed  by  the  example  of  Him  Who 
was  led  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter. 

And  thus  they  are  not  wrong  who  speak  of  the 
Sacrament  of  Sorrow,  for  Jesus,  in  this  passage,  applies 
to  it  the  language  of  both  sacraments. 

It  is  a  harmless  superstition  even  at  the  worst  which 
brings  to  the  baptism  of  many  noble  houses  water  from 
the  stream  where  Jesus  was  baptized  by  John.  But 
here  we  read  of  another  and  a  dread  baptism,  conse- 
crated by  the  fellowship  of  Christ,  in  depths  which 
plummet  never  sounded,  and  into  which  the  neciphytc 
goes  down  sustained  by  no  mortal  hand. 


292  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

Here  is  also  the  communion  of  an  awful  cup.  No 
human  minister  sets  it  in  our  trembling  hand;  no 
human  voice  asks,  ^*  Are  ye  able  to  drink  the  cup  that  I 
drink  ?  "  Our  lips  grow  pale,  and  our  blood  is  chill ; 
but  faith  responds,  ''We  are  able."  And  the  tender 
and  pitying  voice  of  our  Master,  too  loving  to  spare 
one  necessary  pang,  responds  with  the  word  of  doom  : 
"  The  cup  that  I  drink  ye  shall  drink  ;  and  with  the 
baptism  that  I  am  baptized  withal  shall  ye  be  baptized." 
Even  so  :  it  is  enough  for  the  servant  that  he  be  as  his 
Master, 


THE  LAW  OF  GREATNESS 

"  And  when  the  ten  heard  it,  they  began  to  be  moved  with  indigna- 
tion concerning  James  and  John.  And  Jesus  called  them  to  Him,  and 
saith  unto  them,  Ye  know  that  they  which  are  accounted  to  rule  over 
the  Gentiles  lord  it  over  them ;  and  their  great  ones  exercise  authority 
over  them.  But  it  is  not  so  among  you  :  but  whosoever  would  become 
great  among  you,  shall  be  your  minister  :  and  whosoever  would  be  first 
among  you,  shall  be  servant  of  all.  For  verily  the  Son  of  man  came 
not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister,  and  to  give  His  life  a  ransom 
for  many." — Mark  x.  41-45  (R.V.). 

When  the  Ten  heard  that  James  and  John  had  asked 
for  the  chief  places  in  the  kingdom,  they  proved,  by 
their  indignation,  that  they  also  nourished  the  same 
ambitious  desires  which  they  condemned.  But  Jesus 
called  them  to  Him,  for  it  was  not  there  that  angry 
passions  had  broken  out.  And  happy  are  they  who 
hear  and  obey  His  summons  to  approach,  when, 
removed  from  His  purifying  gaze  by  carelessness  or 
wilfulness,  ambition  and  anger  begin  to  excite  their 
hearts. 

N  Jw  Jesus  addressed  them  as  b  ting  aware  of  their 
hidden  emulation.     And  His  treatment  of  it  is  remark- 


Mark  X.  41  ■45-]      THE  LAW  OF  GREATNESS.  293 

able.  He  neither  condemns,  nor  praises  it;  but  simply 
teaches  them  what  Christian  greatness  means,  and  the 
conditions  on  which  it  may  be  won. 

The  greatness  of  the  world  is  measured  by  authority 
and  lordliness.  Even  there  it  is  an  uncertain  test ;  for 
the  most  real  power  is  often  wielded  by  some  anony- 
mous thinker,  or  by  some  crafty  intriguer,  content  with 
the  substance  of  authority  while  his  puppet  enjoys  the 
trappings.  Something  of  this  may  perhaps  be  detected 
in  the  words,  "They  which  are  accounted  to  rule  over 
the  Gentiles  lord  it  over  them."  And  it  is  certain  that 
"  their  great  ones  exercise  authority  over  them."  But 
the  Divine  greatness  is  a  meek  and  gentle  influence. 
To  minister  to  the  Church  is  better  than  to  command  it, 
and  whoever  desires  to  be  the  chief  must  become  the 
servant  of  all.  Thus  shall  whatever  is  vainglorious 
and  egoistic  in  our  ambition  defeat  itself;  the  more 
one  struggles  to  be  great  the  more  he  is  disqualified : 
even  benefits  rendered  to  others  with  this  object  will 
not  really  be  service  done  for  them  but  for  self;  nor 
will  any  calculated  assumption  of  humility  help  one  to 
become  indeed  the  least,  being  but  a  subtle  assertion 
that  he  is  great,  and  like  the  last  place  in  an  ecclesiastical 
procession,  when  occupied  in  a  self-conscious  spirit. 
And  thus  it  comes  to  pass  that  the  Church  knows  very 
indistinctly  who  are  its  greatest  sons.  As  the  gift  of 
two  mites  by  the  widow  was  greater  than  that  of  large 
sums  by  the  rich,  so  a  small  service  done  in  the  spirit 
of  perfect  self-effacement, — a  service  which  thought 
neither  of  its  merit  nor  of  its  reward,  but  only  of  a 
brother's  need,  shall  be  more  in  the  day  of  reckoning 
than  sacrifices  which  are  celebrated  by  the  historians 
and  sung  by  the  poets  of  the  Church.  For  it  may  avail 
nothing  to  give  all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  and  my 


294  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

'"  '  ■ "'  ■  ■    ■»■■        ■■■ ...  ,1.  .        .11—  .    ■ 

body  to  be  burned ;  while  a  cup  of  cold  water,  rendered 
by  a  loyal  hand,  shall  in  no  wise  lose  its  reward. 

Thus  Jesus  throws  open  to  all  men  a  competition  which 
has  no  charms  for  flesh  and  blood.  And  as  He  spoke  ot 
the  entry  upon  His  service,  bearing  a  cross,  as  being  the 
following  of  Himself,  so  He  teaches  us,  that  the  great- 
ness of  lowliness,  to  which  we  are  called,  is  His  own 
greatness.  "  For  verily  the  Son  of  Man  came  not  to 
be  ministered  unto  but  to  minister."  Not  here,  not  in 
this  tarnished  and  faded  world,  would  He  Who  was 
from  everlasting  with  the  Father  have  sought  His  own 
'sase  or  honour.  But  the  physician  came  to  them  that 
were  sick,  and  the  good  Shepherd  followed  His  lost 
Bheep  until  He  found  it.  Now  this  comparison  proves 
that  we  also  are  to  carry  forward  the  same  restoring 
work,  or  else  we  might  infer  that,  because  He  came 
to  minister  to  us,  we  may  accept  ministration  with  a 
good  heart.  It  is  not  so.  We  are  the  light  and  the 
salt  of  the  earth,  and  must  suffer  with  Him  that  we 
may  also  be  glorified  together. 

But  He  added  another  memorable  phrase.  He  came 
"  to  give  His  life  a  ransom  in  exchange  for  many." 
It  is  not  a  question,  therefore,  of  the  inspiring  example 
of  His  life.  Something  has  been  forfeited  which  must 
be  redeemed,  and  Christ  has  paid  the  price.  Nor  is  this 
done  only  on  behalf  of  many,  but  in  exchange  for  them. 

So  then  the  crucifixion  is  not  a  sad  incident  in  a 
great  career ;  it  is  the  mark  towards  which  Jesus 
moved,  the  power  by  which  He  redeemed  the  world. 

Surely,  we  recognise  here  the  echo  of  the  prophet's 
words,  "  Thou  shalt  make  His  soul  an  offering  for  sin 
...  by  His  knowledge  shall  My  righteous  servant 
justify  many,  and  He  shall  bear  their  iniquities '' 
(Isa.  liii.  lo,  1 1). 


Mark  X.  46-52.]  BARTIMyEUS.  295 

The  elaborated  doctrine  of  the  atonement  may  not 
perhaps  be  here,  much  less  the  subtleties  of  theologians 
who  have,  to  their  own  satisfaction,  known  the  mind  o' 
the  Almighty  to  perfection.  But  it  is  beyond  reason- 
able controversy  that  in  this  verse  Jesus  declared  that 
His  sufferings  were  vicarious,  and  endured  in  the 
sinners'  stead. 

BARTIM^US, 

*•  And  they  come  to  Jericho  :  and  as  He  went  out  from  Jericho,  wjtl 

His  disciples  and  a  great  multitude,  the  son  of  Timasus,  Bartimaeus,  a 
blind  beggar,  was  sitting  by  the  way  side.  And  when  he  heard  that  it 
was  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  he  began  to  cry  out,  and  say,  Jesus,  Thou  son 
of  David,  have  mercy  on  me.  And  many  rebuked  him,  that  he  should 
hold  his  peace  :  but  he  cried  out  the  more  a  great  deal,  Thou  son  of 
David,  have  mercy  on  me.  And  Jesus  stood  still,  and  said.  Call  ye 
him.  And  they  called  the  blind  man,  saying  unto  him,  Be  of  good 
cheer ;  rise,  He  calleth  thee.  And  he,  casting  away  his  garment, 
sprang  up,  and  came  to  Jesus.  And  Jesus  answered  him,  and  said. 
What  wilt  thou  that  I  should  do  unto  thee  ?  And  the  blind  man  said 
unto  Him,  Rabboni,  that  I  may  receive  my  sight.  And  Jesus  said  unto 
him,  Go  thy  way  ;  thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole.  And  straightway 
he  received  his  sight,  and  followed  Him  in  the  way." — Mark  x.  46-52 
(R.V.). 

There  is  no  miracle  in  the  Gospels  of  which  the 
accounts  are  so  hard  to  reconcile  as  those  of  the 
healing  of  the  blind  at  Jericho. 

It  is  a  small  thing  that  St.  Matthew  mentions  two 
blind  men,  while  St.  Mark  and  St.  Luke  are  only  aware 
of  one.  The  same  is  true  of  the  demoniacs  at  Gadara, 
and  \\  is  easily  understood  that  only  an  eyewitness 
shouid  remember  the  obscure  comrade  of  a  remarkable 
and  energetic  man,  who  would  have  spread  far  and 
wide  the  particulars  of  his  ow^n  cure.  The  fierce  and 
dangerous  demoniac  of  Gadara  was  just  such  a  man, 
and  there  is  ample  evidence  of  energy  and  vehemence 


296  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 


in  the  brief  account  of  Bartimaeus.  What  is  really 
perplexing  is  that  St.  Luke  places  the  miracle  at  the 
entrance  to  Jericho,  but  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark, 
as  Jesus  came  out  of  it.  It  is  too  forced  and  violent 
a  theory  which  speaks  of  an  old  and  a  new  town,  so 
close  together  that  one  was  entered  and  the  other  left 
at  the  same  time. 

It  is  possible  that  there  were  two  events,  and  the 
success  of  one  sufferer  at  the  entrance  to  the  town  led 
others  to  use  the  same  importunities  at  the  exit.  And 
this  would  not  be  much  more  remarkable  than  the  two 
miracles  of  the  loaves,  or  the  two  miraculous  draughts 
offish.  It  is  also  possible,  though  unHkely,  that  the 
same  supplicant  who  began  his  appeals  without  success 
when  Jesus  entered,  resumed  His  entreaties,  with 
a  comrade,  at  the  gate  by  which  He  left. 

Such  difficulties  exist  in  all  the  best  authenticated 
histories  :  discrepancies  of  the  kind  arise  continually 
between  the  evidence  of  the  most  trustworthy  witnesses 
in  courts  of  justice.  And  the  student  who  is  humble 
as  well  as  devout  will  not  shut  his  eyes  against  facts, 
merely  because  they  are  perplexing,  but  will  remember 
that  they  do  nothing  to  shake  the  solid  narrative  itself. 

As  we  read  St.  Mark's  account,  we  are  struck  by  the 
vividness  of  the  whole  picture,  and  especially  by  the 
robust  personality  of  the  blind  man.  The  scene  is 
neither  Jerusalem,  the  city  of  the  Pharisees  nor 
Galilee,  where  they  have  persistently  sapped  the 
popularity  of  Jesus.  Eastward  of  the  Jordan,  He  has 
spent  the  last  peaceful  and  successful  weeks  of  His 
brief  and  stormy  career,  and  Jericho  lies  upon  the 
borders  of  that  friendly  district.  Accordingly  something 
is  here  of  the  old  enthusiasm  :  a  great  multitude  moves 
along  with  His  disciples  to  the  gates,  and  the  rushing 


Mark  X.  46-52.]  BARTJM^U\  297 

concourse  excites  the  curiosity  of  the  blind  son  of 
Timaeus.  So  does  many  a  religious  movement  lead  to 
inquiry  and  explanation  far  and  wide.  But  when  he, 
sitting  by  the  way,  and  unable  to  follow,  knows  that 
the  great  Healer  is  at  hand,  but  only  in  passing,  and 
for  a  moment,  his  interest  suddenly  becomes  personal 
and  ardent,  and  *'he  began  to  cry  out "  (the  expression 
impHes  that  his  supplication,  beginning  as  the  crowd 
drew  near,  was  not  one  utterance  but  a  prolonged 
api)eal),  *'and  to  say,  Jesus,  Thou  Son  of  David, 
have  mercy  on  me."  To  the  crowd  his  outcry  seemed 
to  be  only  an  intrusion  upon  One  Who  was  too  rapt, 
too  heavenly,  to  be  disturbed  by  the  sorrows  of  a  blind 
beggar.  But  that  was  not  the  view  of  Bartimseus, 
whose  personal  affliction  gave  him  the  keenest  interest 
in  those  verses  of  the  Old  Testament  which  spoke  of 
opening  the  blind  eyes.  If  he  did  not  understand 
their  exact  force  as  prophecies,  at  least  they  satisfied 
him  that  his  petition  could  not  be  an  insult  to  the 
great  Prophet  of  Whom  just  such  actions  were  told,  for 
Whose  visit  he  had  often  sighed,  and  Who  was  now 
fast  going  by,  perhaps  for  ever.  The  picture  is  one  of 
great  eagerness,  bearing  up  against  great  discourage- 
ment. We  catch  the  spirit  of  the  man  as  he  inquires 
what  the  multitude  means,  as  the  epithet  of  his  in- 
formants, Jesus  of  Nazareth,  changes  on  his  lips  into 
Jesus,  Thou  Son  of  David,  as  he  persists,  without 
any  vision  of  Christ  to  encourage  him,  and  amid  the 
rebukes  of  many,  in  crying  out  the  more  a  great 
deal,  although  pain  is  deepening  every  moment  in  his 
accents,  and  he  will  presently  need  cheering.  The 
ear  of  Jesus  is  quick  for  such  a  call,  and  He  stops. 
He  does  not  raise  His  own  voice  to  summon  him, 
but  teaches  a  lesson  of  humanity  to  those  who  would 


GOSFEL   OF  ST.   AIARK. 


fain  have  silenced  the  appeal  of  anguish,  and  says,  Call 
ye  him.  And  they  obey  with  a  courtier-like  change  of 
tone,  saying,  Be  of  good  cheer,  rise,  He  calieth  thee. 
And  Bartimaeus  cannot  endure  even  the  sHght  hindrance 
of  his  loose  garment,  but  flings  it  aside,  and  rises  and 
comes  to  Jesus,  a  pattern  of  the  importunity  which 
prays  and  never  faints,  which  perseveres  amid  all 
discouragement,  which  adverse  public  opinion  cannot 
hinder.  And  the  Lord  asks  of  him  almost  exactly  the 
same  question  as  recently  of  James  and  John,  What 
wilt  thou  that  I  should  do  for  thee  ?  But  in  his  reply 
there  is  no  aspiring  pride  :  misery  knows  how  precious 
are  the  common  gifts,  the  every-day  blessings  which  we 
hardly  pause  to  think  about ;  and  he  replies,  Rabboni, 
that  I  may  receive  my  sight.  It  is  a  glad  and  eager 
answer.  Many  a  petition  he  had  urged  in  vain  ;  and 
many  a  small  favour  had  been  discourteously  bestowed  ; 
but  Jesus,  Whose  tenderness  loves  to  commend  while 
He  blesses,  shares  with  him,  so  to  speak,  the  glory  of 
his  healing,  as  He  answers.  Go  thy  way,  thy  faith  hath 
made  thee  whole.  By  thus  fixing  his  attention  upon 
his  own  part  in  the  miracle,  so  utterly  worthless  as  a 
contribution,  but  so  indispensable  as  a  condition,  Jesus 
taught  him  to  exercise  hereafter  the  same  gift  of  faith. 

"  Go  thy  way,"  He  said.  And  Bartimaeus  "  followed 
Him  on  the  road."  Happy  is  that  man  whose  eyes 
are  open  to  discern,  and  his  heart  prompt  to  follow,  the 
print  of  those  holy  feet. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    TRIUMPHANT  ENTRY, 

**  And  when  they  draw  nigh  unto  Jerusalem,  unto  Bethphaj^e  and 
Bethany,  at  the  Mount  of  Olives,  He  sendeth  two  of  His  disciples,  and 
saith  unto  them,  Go  your  way  into  the  village  that  is  over  against  you : 
and  straightway  as  ye  enter  into  it,  ye  shall  find  a  colt  tied,  whereon  no 
man  ever  yet  sat ;  loose  him,  and  bring  him.  And  if  any  one  say  unto 
you,  Why  do  ye  this  ?  say  ye,  The  Lord  hath  need  of  him  ;  and  straight- 
way He  will  send  him  back  hither.  And  they  went  away,  and  found  a 
colt  tied  at  the  door  without  in  the  open  street ;  and  they  loose  him. 
And  certain  of  them  that  stood  there  said  unto  them.  What  do  ye, 
loosing  the  colt  ?  And  they  said  unto  them  even  as  Jesus  had  said : 
and  they  let  them  go.  And  they  bring  the  colt  unto  Jesus,  and  cast 
on  him  their  garments  ;  and  He  sat  upon  him.  And  many  spread  their 
garments  upon  the  way  ;  and  others  branches,  which  they  had  cut  from 
the  fields.  And  they  that  went  before,  and  they  that  followed,  cried, 
Hosanna  ;  Blessed  is  He  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  :  Blessed 
is  the  kingdom  that  cometh,  t/ie  kingdom  of  our  father  David  :  Hosanna 
in  the  highest.  And  He  entered  into  Jerusalem,  into  the  temple  ;  and 
when  He  had  looked  round  about  upon  all  things,  it  being  now  even- 
tide, He  went  out  unto  Bethany  with  the  twelve." — Mark  xi.  i-ii 
(R.V.). 

JESUS  had  now  come  near  to  Jerusalem,  into  what 
was  possibly  the  sacred  district  of  Bethphage,  of 
which,  in  that  case,  Bethany  was  the  border  village. 
Not  without  pausing  here  (as  we  learn  from  the  fourth 
Gospel),  yet  as  the  next  step  forward,  He  sent  two  of 
His  disciples  to  untie  and  bring  back  an  ass,  which  was 
fastened  with  her  colt  at  a  spot  which  He  minutely 
described.     Unless  they  were  challenged  they  should 


300  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK. 

simply  bring  the  animals  away;  but  if  any  one  remonstra- 
ted, they  should  answer,  ^'  The  Lord  hath  need  of  them," 
and  therftupon  the  owner  would  not  only  acquiesce, 
but  send  them.  In  fact  they  are  to  make  a  requisition, 
such  as  the  State  often  institutes  for  horses  and  cattle 
during  a  campaign,  when  private  rights  must  give  way 
to  a  national  exigency.  And  this  masterful  demand, 
this  abrupt  and  decisive  rejoinder  to  a  natural  objection, 
not  arguing  nor  requesting,  but  demanding,  this  title 
which  they  are  bidden  to  give  to  Jesus,  by  which, 
standing  thus  alone,  He  is  rarely  described  in  Scripture 
(chiefly  in  the  later  Epistles,  when  the  remembrance  of 
His  earthly  style  gave  place  to  the  influence  of  habitual 
adoration),  all  this  preliminary  arrangement  makes  us 
conscious  of  a  change  of  tone,  of  royalty  issuing  its 
mandates,  and  claiming  its  rights.  But  what  a  claim, 
what  a  requisition,  when  He  takes  the  title  of  Jehovah, 
and  yet  announces  His  need  of  the  colt  of  an  ass.  It  is 
indeed  the  lowliest  of  all  memorable  processions  which 
He  plans,  and  yet,  in  its  very  humility,  it  appeals  to 
ancient  prophecy,  and  says  unto  Zion  that  her  King 
Cometh  unto  her.  The  monarchs  of  the  East  and  the 
captains  of  the  West  might  ride  upon  horses  as  for  war, 
but  the  King  of  Sion  should  come  unto  her  meek,  and 
sitting  upon  an  ass,  upon  a  colt,  the  foal  of  an  ass. 
Yet  there  is  fitness  and  dignity  in  the  use  of  "  a  colt 
whereon  never  man  sat,"  and  it  reminds  us  of  other 
facts,  such  as  that  He  was  the  firstborn  of  a  virgin 
mother,  and  rested  in  a  tomb  which  corruption  had 
never  soiled. 

Thus  He  comes  forth,  the  gentlest  of  the  mighty, 
with  no  swords  gleaming  around  to  guard  Him,  or  to 
smite  the  foreigner  who  tramples  Israel,  or  the  worse 
foes  of  her  own  household.     Men  who  will  follow  such 


Markxi.  i-ii.]     THE   TRIUMPHANT  ENTRY.  301 

a  King  must  lay  aside  their  vain  and  earthly  ambitions, 
and  awake  to  the  truth  that  spiritual  powers  are  grander 
than  any  which  violence  ever  grasped.  But  men  who 
will  not  follow  Him  shall  some  day  learn  the  same  lesson, 
perhaps  in  the  crash  of  their  reeling  commonwealth, 
perhaps  not  until  the  armies  of  heaven  follow  Him,  as 
He  goes  forth,  riding  now  upon  a  white  horse,  crowned 
with  many  diadems,  smiting  the  nations  with  a  sharp 
sword,  and  ruling  them  with  an  iron  rod. 

Lowly  though  His  procession  was,  yet  it  was  palpably 
a  royal  one.  When  Jehu  was  proclaimed  king  at 
Ramoth-Gilead,  the  captains  hastened  to  make  him  sit 
upon  the  garments  of  every  one  of  them,  expressing 
by  this  national  symbol  their  subjection.  Somewhat 
the  same  feeling  is  in  the  famous  anecdote  of  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  and  Queen  EHzabeth.  And  thus  the  disciples 
who  brought  the  ass  cast  on  him  their  garments,  and 
Jesus  sat  thereon,  and  many  spread  their  garments  in 
the  way.  Others  strewed  the  road  with  branches ;  and 
as  they  went  they  cried  aloud  certain  verses  of  that  great 
song  of  triumph,  which  told  how  the  nations,  swarming 
like  bees,  were  quenched  like  the  light  fire  of  thorns, 
how  the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  did  valiantly,  how  the 
gates  of  righteousness  should  be  thrown  open  for  the 
righteous,  and,  more  significant  still,  how  the  stone 
which  the  builders  rejected  should  become  the  head- 
stone of  the  corner.  Often  had  Jesus  quoted  this 
saying  when  reproached  by  the  unbelief  of  the  rulers, 
and  now  the  people  rejoiced  and  were  glad  in  it,  as 
they  sang  of  His  salvation,  saying,  '*  Hosanna,  blessed 
is  He  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  Blessed  is 
the  kingdom  that  cometh,  the  Kingdom  of  our  father 
David,  Hosanna  in  the  highest." 

Such  is  the  narrative  as  it  impressed  St.  Mark.     For 


302  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

his  purpose  it  mattered  nothing  that  Jerusalem  took 
no  part  in  the  rejoicings,  but  was  perplexed,  and  said, 
Who  is  this  ?  or  that,  when  confronted  by  this  some- 
what scornful  and  affected  ignorance  of  the  capital,  the 
voice  of  Galilee  grew  weak,  and  proclaimed  no  longer 
the  advent  of  the  kingdom  of  David,  but  only  Jesus,  the 
prophet  of  Nazareth ;  or  that  the  Pharisees  in  the 
temple  avowed  their  disapproval,  while  contemptuously 
ignoring  the  Galilean  multitude,  by  inviting  Him  to 
reprove  some  children.  What  concerned  St.  Mark 
was  that  now,  at  last,  Jesus  openly  and  practically 
assumed  rank  as  a  monarch,  allowed  men  to  proclaim 
the  advent  of  His  kingdom,  and  proceeded  to  exercise 
its  rights  by  calling  for  the  surrender  of  property,  and 
by  cleansing  the  temple  with  a  scourge.  The  same 
avowal  of  kingship  is  almost  all  that  he  has  cared  to 
record  of  the  remarkable  scene  before  His  Roman 
'udge. 

After  this  heroic  fashion  did  Jesus  present  Himself 
to  die.  Without  a  misleading  hope,  conscious  of  the 
hollowness  of  His  seeming  popularity,  weeping  for  the 
impending  ruin  of  the  glorious  city  whose  walls  were 
ringing  with  His  praise,  and  predicting  the  murderous 
triumph  of  the  crafty  faction  which  appears  so  help- 
less. He  not  only  refuses  to  recede  or  compromise, 
but  does  not  hesitate  to  advance  His  claims  in  a 
manner  entirely  new,  and  to  defy  the  utmost  animosity 
of  those  who  still  rejected  Him. 

After  such  a  scene  there  could  be  no  middle  course 
between  crushing  Him,  and  bowing  to  Him.  He  was 
no  longer  a  Teacher  of  doctrines,  however  revolutionary, 
but  an  Aspirant  to  practical  authority,  Who  must  be 
dealt  with  practically. 

There  vas  evidence  also  of  His  intention  to  proceed 


Mark xi.  12-14,  20-25.]     12JE  BARREN  FIG-TREE.  303 

upon  this  new  line,  when  He  entered  into  the  temple, 
investigated  its  glaring  abuses,  and  only  left  it  for  the 
moment  because  it  was  now  eventide.  To-morrow  would 
show  more  of  His  designs. 

Jesus  is  still,  and  in  this  world,  King.  And  it  will 
hereafter  avail  us  nothirg  to  have  received  His  doctrine, 
unless  we  have  taken  His  yoke. 

THE  BARREN  FIG-TREE, 

•*  And  on  the  morrow,  when  they  were  come  out  from  Bethany,  He 
hungered.  And  seeing  a  fig-tree  afar  oflF  having  leaves,  He  came,  if 
haply  He  might  find  anything  thereon  :  and  when  He  came  to  it.  He 
found  nothing  but  leaves ;  for  it  was  not  the  season  of  figs.  And  He 
answered  and  said  unto  it,  No  man  eat  fruit  from  thee  henceforward 
for  ever.     And  His  disciples  heard  it" 

"  And  as  they  passed  by  in  the  morning,  they  saw  the  fig-tree 
withered  away  from  the  roots.  And  Peter  calling  to  remembrance  saith 
unto  Him,  Rabbi,  behold,  the  fig-treo  which  Thou  cursedst  is  withered 
away.  And  Jesus  answering  saith  unto  them,  Have  faith  in  God. 
Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Whosoever  shaU  sav  unto  this  mountain,  Be 
thou  taken  up  and  cast  into  the  sea  ;  and  shall  not  doubt  in  his  heart, 
but  shall  believe  that  what  he  saith  coraeth  to  pass  ;  he  shall  have  it. 
Therefore  I  say  unto  you,  All  things  whatsoever  ye  pray  and  ask  for, 
believe  that  ye  have  received  them,  and  ye  shall  have  them.  And 
whensoever  ye  stand  praying,  forgive,  if  ye  have  aught  against  any  ^e ; 
that  your  Father  also  which  is  in  heaven  may  forgive  you  yom-  tres- 
passes."— Mark  xl  12-14,  20-25  (R.V.). 

No  sooner  has  Jesus  claimed  His  kingdom,  than  He 
performs  His  first  and  only  miracle  of  judgment.  And 
it  is  certain  that  no  mortal,  informed  that  sach  a 
miracle  was  impending,  could  have  gu-^ssed  where  the 
blow  would  fall.  In  this  miracle  an  element  is  pro- 
dommant  which  exists  in  all,  since  it  is  wrought  as  an 
acted  dramatized  parable,  not  for  any  physical  advan- 
tage, but  wholly  for  the  instruction  which  it  conveys. 
Jesus  hungered  at  the  very  outset  of  a  day  of  toil,  as 


904  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 

He  came  out  from  Bethany.  And  this  was  not  due  to 
poverty,  since  the  disciples  there  had  recently  made 
Him  a  great  feast,  but  to  His  own  absorbing  ardour. 
The  zeal  of  God's  house,  which  He  had  seen  polluted 
and  was  about  to.  cleanse,  had  either  left  Him  indifferent 
to  food  until  the  keen  air  of  morning  aroused  the  sense 
of  need,  or  else  it  had  detained  Him,  all  night  long,  in 
prayer  and  meditation  out  of  doors.  As  He  walks.  He 
sees  afar  off  a  lonely  fig-tree  covered  with  leaves,  and 
comes  if  haply  He  might  find  anything  thereon.  It  is 
true  that  figs  would  not  be  in  season  for  two  months, 
but  yet  they  ought  to  present  themselves  before  the 
leaves  did  ;  and  since  the  tree  was  precocious  in  the 
show  and  profusion  of  luxuriance,  it  ought  to  bear 
early  figs.  If  it  failed,  it  would  at  least  point  a  power- 
ful moral ;  and,  therefore,  when  only  leaves  appeared 
upon  it,  Jesus  cursed  it  with  perpetual  barrenness,  and 
passed  on.  Not  in  the  dusk  of  that  evening  as  they 
returned,  but  when  they  passed  by  again  in  the  morning 
the  blight  was  manifest,  the  tree  was  withered  from  its 
very  roots. 

It  is  complained  that  by  this  act  Jesus  deprived  some 
one  of  his  property.  But  the  same  retributive  justice 
of  which  this  was  an  expression  was  preparing  to 
blight,  presently,  all  the  possessions  of  all  the  nation. 
Was  this  unjust  ?  And  of  the  numberless  trees  that 
are  blasted  year  by  year,  why  should  the  loss  of  this 
one  only  be  resented  ?  Every  physical  injury  must  be 
intended  to  further  some  spiritual  end  ;  but  it  is  not 
often  that  the  purpose  is  so  clear,  and  the  lesson  so 
distinctly  learned. 

Others  blame  our  Lord's  word  of  sentence,  because 
a  tree,  not  being  a  moral  agent,  ought  not  to  be 
purisbed.     It  is  an  obvious  rejoinder  that  neither  could 


Mark xi.  12-14,  20-25.]     THE  BARREN  FIG-TREE.  305 

it  suffer  pain ;  that  the  whole  action  is  symbolic ;  and 
that  we  ourselves  justify  the  Saviour's  method  of  ex- 
pression as  often  as  we  call  one  tree  "good"  and 
another  '*  bad/'  and  say  that  a  third  "  ought "  to  bear 
fruit,  while  not  much  could  be  "  expected  of "  a  fourth. 
It  should  rather  be  observed  that  in  this  word  of 
sentence  Jesus  revealed  His  tenderness.  It  would 
have  been  a  false  and  cruel  kindness  never  to  work 
any  miracle  except  of  compassion,  and  thus  to  suggest 
the  inference  that  He  could  never  strike,  whereas  indeed, 
before  that  generation  passe  1  away,  He  would  break 
His  enemies  in  pieces  like  a  potter's  vessel. 

Yet  He  came  not  to  destroy  men's  lives  but  to  save 
them.  And,  therefore,  while  showing  Himself  neither 
indifferent  nor  powerless  against  barren  and  false  pre- 
tensions, He  did  this  only  once,  and  then  only  by  a 
sign  wrought  upon  an  unsentisnt  tree. 

Retribution  fell  upon  it  net  for  its  lack  of  fruit,  since 
at  that  season  it  shared  this  with  all  its  tribe,  but  for 
ostentatious,  much-professing  fruit lessness.  And  thus 
it  pointed  with  dread  significance  to  the  condition  of 
God's  own  people,  differing  from  Greece  and  Rome  and 
Syria,  not  in  the  want  of  fruit,  but  in  the  show  of  luxu- 
riant frondage,  in  the  expectation  it  excited  and  mocked. 
When  the  season  of  the  world's  fruitfulness  was  yet 
remote,  only  Israel  put  forth  leaves,  and  made  professions 
which  were  not  fulfilled.  And  the  permanent  warning 
of  the  miracle  is  not  for  heathen  men  and  races,  but 
for  Christians  who  have  a  name  to  live,  and  who  are 
called  to  bear  fruit  unto  God. 

While  the  disciples  marvelled  at  the  sudden  fulfilment 
of  its  sentence,  they  could  not  have  forgotten  the 
parable  of  a  fig-tree  in  the  vineyard,  on  which  care 
and  labour  were  lavished,  but  which  must  be  destroyed 

20 


3o6  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK. 

after  one  year  of  respite  if  it  continued  to  be  a  cumberer 
of  the  ground. 

And  Jesus  drove  the  lesson  home.  He  pointed  to 
"  this  mountain  "  full  in  front,  with  the  gold  and  marble 
of  the  temple  sparkling  like  a  diadem  upon  its  brow, 
and  declared  that  faith  is  not  only  able  to  smite  barren- 
ness with  death,  but  to  remove  into  the  midst  of  the 
sea,  to  plant  among  the  wild  and  stormswept  races  of 
the  immeasurable  pagan  world,  the  glory  and  privilege 
of  the  realized  presence  of  the  Lord.  To  do  this  was 
the  purpose  of  God,  hinted  by  many  a  prophet,  and 
clearly  announced  by  Christ  Himself.  But  its  accom- 
plishment was  left  to  His  followers,  who  should  succeed 
in  exact  proportion  to  the  union  of  their  will  and  that 
of  God,  so  that  the  condition  of  that  moral  miracle, 
transcending  all  others  in  marvel  and  in  efficacy,  was 
simple  faith. 

And  the  same  rule  covers  all  the  exigencies  of  life. 
One  who  truly  relies  on  God,  whose  mind  and  will  are 
attuned  to  those  of  the  Eternal,  cannot  be  selfish,  or 
vindictive,  or  presumptuous.  As  far  as  we  rise  to  the 
grandeur  of  this  condition  we  enter  into  the  Omni- 
potence of  God,  and  no  limit  need  be  imposed  upon  the 
prevalence  of  really  and  utterly  believing  prayer.  The 
wishes  that  ought  to  be  refused  will  vanish  as  we  attain 
that  eminence,  like  the  hoar  frost  of  morning  as  the 
sun  grows  strong. 

To  this  promise  Jesus  added  a  precept,  the  admirable 
suitability  of  which  is  not  at  first  apparent.  Most  sins 
are  made  evident  to  the  conscience  in  the  act  of  prayer. 
Drawing  nigh  to  God,  we  feel  our  unfitness  to  be  there, 
we  are  made  conscious  of  what  He  frowns  upon,  and 
if  we  have  such  faith  as  Jesus  spoke  of,  we  at  once 
resign  what  would  grieve  the  Spirit  of  adoption.     No 


Markxi  15-19.]     CLEANSING  OF  THE    TEMPLE.  307 

saint  is  ignorant  of  the  convicting  power  of  prayer. 
But  it  is  not  of  necessity  so  with  resentment  for  real 
grievances.  We  may  think  we  do  well  to  be  angry. 
We  may  confound  our  selfish  fire  with  the  pure  flame 
of  holy  zeal,  and  begin,  with  confidence  enough,  yet  not 
with  the  mind  of  Christ,  to  remove  mountains,  not  because 
they  impede  a  holy  cause,  but  because  they  throw  a 
shadow  upon  our  own  field>  And,  therefore,  Jesus 
reminds  us  that  not  only  wonder-working  faith,  but 
even  the  forgiveness  of  our  sins  requires  from  us  the 
forgiveness  of  our  brother.  This  saying  is  the  clearest 
proof  of  how  much  is  implied  in  a  truly  undoubting 
heart.  And  this  promise  is  the  sternest  rebuke  of  the 
Church,  endorsed  with  such  ample  powers,  and  yet  after 
nineteen  centuries  confronted  by  an  unconverted  world. 

THE  SECOND  CLEANSING  OF  THE    TEMPLE, 

"  And  they  come  to  Jerusalem  :  and  He  entered  into  the  temple, 
and  began  to  cast  out  them  that  sold  and  them  that  bought  in  the 
temple,  and  overthrew  the  tables  of  the  moneychangers,  and  the  seats 
of  them  that  sold  the  doves ;  and  He  would  not  suffer  that  any  man 
should  carry  a  vessel  through  the  temple.  And  He  taught,  and  said 
unto  them,  Is  it  not  written,  My  house  shall  be  called  a  house  of  prayer 
for  all  the  nations  ?  but  ye  have  made  it  a  den  of  robbers.  And  the 
chief  priests  and  the  scribes  heard  it,  and  sought  how  they  might 
destroy  Him  :  for  they  feared  Him,  for  all  the  multitude  was  astonished 
at  His  teaching.  And  every  evening  He  went  forth  out  of  the  city." — 
Maxk  xi.  15-19.  (R.V.). 

With  the  authority  of  yesterday's  triumph  still  about 
Him,  Jesus  returned  to  the  temple,  which  He  had  then 
inspected.  There  at  least  the  priesthood  were  not 
thwarted  by  popular  indifference  or  ignorance:  they 
had  power  to  carry  out  fully  their  own  views ;  they 
were  solely  responsible  for  whatever  abuses  could  be 
discovered.     In  fact,   the  iniquities  which  moved  the 


3o8  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


indignation  of  Jesus  were  of  their  own  contrivance,  and 
they  enriched  themselves  by  a  vile  trade  which  robbed 
the  worshippers  and  profaned  the  holy  house. 

Pilgrims  from  a  distance  needed  the  sacred  money, 
the  half-shekel  of  the  sanctuary,  still  coined  for  this 
one  purpose,  to  offer  for  a  ransom  of  their  souls  (Exod. 
XXX.  13).  And  the  priests  had  sanctioned  a  trade  in 
the  exchange  of  money  under  the  temple  roof,  so 
fraudulent  that  the  dealers'  evidence  was  refused  in  the 
courts  of  justice. 

Doves  were  necessary  for  the  purification  of  the  poor, 
who  could  not  afford  more  costly  sacrifices,  and  sheep 
and  oxen  were  also  in  great  demand.  And  since  the 
unblemished  quality  of  the  sacrifices  should  be  attested 
by  the-  priests,  they  had  been  able  to  put  a  fictitious 
value  upon  these  animals,  by  which  the  family  of  Annas 
in  particular  had  accumulated  enormous  wealth. 

To  facilitate  this  trade,  they  had  dared  to  bring  the 
defilement  of  the  cattle  market  within  the  precincts  of 
the  House  of  God.  Not  indeed  into  the  place  where 
the  Pharisee  stood  in  his  pride  and  "  prayed  with  him- 
self," for  that  was  holy ;  but  the  court  of  the  Gentiles 
was  profane ;  the  din  which  distracted  and  the  foulness 
which  revolted  Gentile  worship  was  of  no  account  to 
the  average  Jew.  But  Jesus  regarded  the  scene  with 
different  eyes.  How  could  the  sanctity  of  that  holy 
place  not  extend  to  the  court  of  the  stranger  and  the 
proselyte,  when  it  was  written,  Thy  house  shall  be  called 
a  house  of  prayer  for  all  the  nations  ?  Therefore  Jesus 
had  already,  at  the  outset  of  His  ministry,  cleansed 
His  Father's  house.  Now,  in  the  fulness  of  His  newly 
asserted  royalty,  He  calls  it  My  House :  He  denounces 
the  iniquity  of  their  traffic  by  branding  it  as  a  den  of 
robbers ;  He  casts  out  the  traders  themselves,  as  well 


MatIcxL  15-19.]     CLEANSING  OF  THE   TEMPLE.  309 

as  the  implements  of  their  traffic ;  and  in  so  doing 
He  fanned  to  a  mortal  heat  the  hatred  of  the  chief 
priests  and  the  scribes,  who  saw  at  once  their  revenues 
threatened  and  their  reputation  tarnished,  and  yet  dared 
not  strike,  because  all  the  multitude  was  astonished  at 
His  teaching. 

But  the  wisdom  of  Jesus  did  not  leave  Him  within 
their  reach  at  night ;  every  evening  He  went  forth  out 
of  the  city. 

From  this  narrative  we  learn  the  blinding  force  of 
self-interest,  for  doubtless  they  were  no  more  sensible 
of  their  iniquity  than  many  a  modern  slavedealer, 
And  we  must  never  rest  content  because  our  own 
conscience  acquits  us,  unless  we  have  by  thought  and 
prayer  supplied  it  with  light  and  guiding. 

We  learn  reverence  for  sacred  places,  since  the  one 
exercise  of  His  royal  authority  which  Jesus  publicly 
displayed  was  to  cleanse  the  temple,  even  though  upon 
the  morrow  He  would  relinquish  it  for  ever,  to  be 
"  your  house  " — and  desolate. 

We  learn  also  how  much  apparent  sanctity,  what 
dignity  of  worship,  splendour  of  offerings,  and  pomp  oi 
architecture  may  go  along  with  corruption  and  un- 
reality. 

And  yet  again,  by  their  overawed  and  abject  helpless- 
ness we  learn  the  might  of  holy  indignation,  and  the 
awakening  power  of  a  bold  appeal  to  conscience.  "The 
people  hung  upon  Him,  listening,"  and  if  all  seemed 
vain  and  wasted  effort  on  the  following  Friday,  what 
fruit  of  the  teaching  of  Jesus  did  not  His  followers 
gather  in,  as  soon  as  He  poured  down  on  them  the 
gifts  of  Pentecost. 

Did  they  now  recall  their  own  reflections  after  the 
earlier  cleansing  of  the  temple  ?  and  their  Master'i 


310  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

ominous  words  ?  They  had  then  remembered  how  it 
was  written,  The  zeal  of  thine  house  shall  eat  Me  up. 
And  He  had  said,  Destroy  this  temple,  and  in  three 
days  I  shall  raise  it  up,  speaking  of  the  temple  of 
His  Body,  which  was  now  about  to  be  thrown  down. 


THE  BAPTISM  OF  JOHN,    WHENCE    WAS  ITt 

"  And  they  come  again  to  Jerusalem  :  and  as  He  was  walking  in  the 
temple,  there  come  to  Him  the  chief  priests,  and  the  scribes,  and  the 
elders  ;  and  they  said  unto  Him,  By  what  authority  doest  Thou  these 
things  ?  or  who  gave  Thee  this  authority  to  do  these  things  ?  And  Jesus 
said  unto  them.  I  will  ask  of  you  one  question,  and  answer  Me,  and  I 
will  tell  you  by  what  authority  I  do  these  things.  The  baptism  of  John, 
was  it  from  heaven,  or  from  men  ?  answer  Me.  And  they  reasoned  with 
themselves,  saying,  If  we  shall  say,  From  heaven :  He  will  say,  Why 
then  did  ye  not  believe  him  ?  But  should  we  say,  From  men — they 
feared  the  people  :  for  all  verily  held  John  to  be  a  prophet.  And 
they  answered  Jesus  and  say.  We  know  not.  And  Jesus  saith  unto 
them,  Neither  tell  I  you  by  what  authority  I  do  these  things." — 
Mark  xi.  27-33  (R-V.). 

The  question  put  to  Jesus  by  the  hierarchy  of  Jeru- 
salem is  recorded  in  all  the  synoptic  Gospels.  But  in 
some  respects  the  story  is  most  pointed  in  the  narrative 
of  St.  Mark.  And  it  is  natural  that  he,  the  historian 
especially  of  the  energies  of  Christ,  should  lay  stress 
upon  a  challenge  addressed  to  Him,  by  reason  of  His 
masterful  words  and  deeds.  At  the  outset,  he  had 
recorded  the  astonishment  of  the  people  because 
Jesus  taught  with  authority,  because  ^*  Verily  I  say  " 
replaced  the  childish  and  servile  methods  by  which 
the  scribe  and  the  Pharisee  sustained  their  most  wilful 
innovations. 

When  first  he  relates  a  miracle,  he  tells  how  their 
wonder  increased,  because  with  authority  Jesus  com- 
manded the  unclean  spirits  and  they  obeyed,  respecting 


Mark  xi.  27-33-]  BAPTISM  OF  JOHiY.  311 

His  self-reliant  word  "  I  command  thee  to  come  out/' 
more  than  the  most  elaborate  incantations  and  exorcisms. 
St.  Mark's  first  record  of  collision  with  the  priests  was 
when  Jesus  carried  His  claim  still  farther,  and  said 
"  The  Son  of  man  hath  authority  "  (it  is  the  same  word) 
*'on  earth  to  forgive  sins."  Thus  we  find  the  Gospel 
quite  conscious  of  what  so  forcibly  strikes  a  careful 
modern  reader,  the  assured  and  independent  tone  of 
Jesus ;  His  bearing,  so  unlike  that  of  a  disciple  or  a  com- 
mentator; His  consciousness  that  the  Scriptures  them- 
selves are  they  which  testify  of  Him,  and  that  only  He 
can  give  the  life  which  men  think  they  possess  in  these. 
In  the  very  teaching  of  lowliness  Jesus  exempts  Him- 
self, and  forbids  others  to  be  Master  and  Lord,  because 
these  titles  belong  to  Him. 

Impressive  as  such  claims  appear  when  we  awake  to 
them,  it  is  even  more  suggestive  to  reflect  that  we  can 
easily  read  the  Gospels  and  not  be  struck  by  them.  We 
do  not  start  when  He  bids  all  the  weary  to  come  to  Him, 
and  offers  them  rest,  and  yet  declares  Himself  to  be 
meek  and  lowly.  He  is  meek  and  lowly  while  He  makes 
such  claims.  His  bearing  is  that  of  the  highest  rank, 
joined  with  the  most  perfect  graciousness ;  His  great 
claims  never  irritate  us,  because  they  are  palpably  His 
due,  and  we  readily  concede  the  astonishing  elevation 
whence  He  so  graciously  bends  down  so  low.  And  this 
is  one  evidence  of  the  truth  and  power  of  the  character 
which  the  Apostles  drew. 

How  natural  is  this  also,  that  immediately  after  Palm 
Sunday,  when  the  people  have  hailed  their  Messiah, 
royal  and  a  Saviour,  and  when  He  has  accepted  their 
homage,  we  find  new  indications  of  authority  in  His 
bearing  and  His  actions.  He  promptly  took  them  at 
their  word.     It  was  now  that   He  wrought  His  only 


312  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

miracle  of  judgment,  and  although  it  was  but  the 
withering  of  a  tree  (since  He  came  not  to  destroy  men's 
lives  but  to  save  them),  yet  was  there  a  dread  symbolical 
sentence  involved  upon  all  barren  and  unfruitful  men 
and  Churches.  In  the  very  act  of  triumphal  entry,  He 
solemnly  pronounced  judgment  upon  the  guilty  city 
which  would  not  accept  her  King. 

Arrived  at  the  temple,  He  surveyed  its  abuses  and 
defilements,  and  returned  on  the  morrow  (and  so  not 
spurred  by  sudden  impulse,  but  of  deliberate  purpose), 
to  drive  out  them  that  sold  and  bought.  Two  years 
ago  He  had  needed  to  scourge  the  intruders  forth,  but 
now  they  are  overawed  by  His  majesty,  and  obey  His 
word.  Then,  too,  they  were  rebuked  for  making  His 
Father's  house  a  house  of  merchandise,  but  now  it  is 
His  own — "  My  House,"  but  degraded  yet  farther  into 
a  den  of  thieves. 

But  while  traffic  and  pollution  shrank  away,  misery 
and  privation  were  attracted  to  Him ;  the  bUnd  and  the 
lame  came  and  were  healed  in  the  very  temple  ;  and  the 
centre  and  rallying-place  of  the  priests  and  scribes  be- 
held His  power  to  save.  This  drove  them  to  extremi- 
ties. He  was  carrying  the  war  into  the  heart  of  their 
territories,  establishing  Himself  in  their  stronghold,  and 
making  it  very  plain  that  since  the  people  had  hailed 
Him  King,  and  He  had  responded  to  their  acclaims.  He 
would  not  shrink  from  whatever  His  view  of  that  great 
office  might  involve. 

While  they  watched,  full  of  bitterness  and  envy,  they 
were  again  impressed,  as  at  the  beginning,  by  the 
strange,  autocratic,  spo.itaneous  manner  in  which  He 
worked,  making  Himself  the  source  of  His  blessings, 
as  no  prophet  had  ever  done  since  Moses  expiated  so 
dearly  the  offence  of  saying.  Must  we  fetch  you  water 


Mark  xi.  37-33-]  BAPTISM  OF  JOHN,  313 

out  of  the  rock  ?  Jesus  acted  after  the  fashion  of  Him 
Who  openeth  His  hands  and  satisfieth  the  desire  of 
every  living  thing.  Why  did  He  not  give  the  glory  to 
One  above  ?  Why  did  He  not  supplicate,  nor  invoke, 
but  simply  bestow  ?  Where  were  the  accustomed  words 
of  supplication,  "  Hear  me,  O  Lord  God,  hear  me,"  or, 
"  Where  is  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  ?  " 

Here  they  discerned  a  flaw,  a  heresy ;  and  they  would 
force  Him  either  to  make  a  fatal  claim,  or  else  to  moder- 
ate His  pretensions  at  their  bidding,  which  would 
promptly  restore  their  lost  influence  and  leadership. 

Nor  need  we  shrink  from  confessing  that  our  Lord 
was  justly  open  to  such  reproach,  unless  He  was  indeed 
Divine,  unless  He  was  deliberately  preparing  His  fol- 
lowers for  that  astonishing  revelation,  soon  to  come, 
which  threw  the  Church  upon  her  knees  in  adoration 
of  her  God  manifest  in  flesh.  It  is  hard  to  understand 
how  the  Socinian  can  defend  his  Master  against  the 
charge  of  encroaching  on  the  rights  and  honours  of 
Deity,  and  (to  borrow  a  phrase  from  a  different  connec- 
tion) sitting  down  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  of 
God,  whereas  every  priest  standeth  ministering.  If  He 
were  a  creature.  He  culpably  failed  to  tell  us  the  con- 
ditions upon  which  He  received  a  delegated  authority, 
and  the  omission  has  made  His  Church  ever  since 
idolatrous  It  is  one  great  and  remarkable  lesson 
suggested  by  this  verse:  if  Jesus  were  not  Divine, 
what  was  He  ? 

Thus  it  came  to  pass,  in  direct  consequence  upon 
the  events  which  opened  the  great  week  of  the  triumph 
and  the  cross  of  Jesus,  that  the  whole  rank  and 
authority  of  the  temple  system  confronted  Him  with  a 
stern  qu**stion.  They  sat  in  Moses'  seat.  They  were 
entitled   *o    examine    the   pretensions   of  a   new  and 


314  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK. 

aspiring  teacher.  They  had  a  perfect  right  to  demand 
"  Tell  us  by  what  authority  thou  doest  these  things." 
The  works  are  not  denied,  but  the  source  whence  they 
flow  is  questioned. 

After  so  many  centuries,  the  question  is  fresh  to-day. 
For  still  the  spirit  of  Christ  is  working  in  His  world, 
openly,  palpably,  spreading  blessings  far  and  wide. 
It  is  exalting  multitudes  of  ignoble  lives  by  hopes  that 
are  profound,  far-reaching,  and  sublime.  When  savage 
realms  are  explored,  it  is  Christ  Who  hastens  thither 
with  His  gospel,  before  the  trader  in  rum  and  gun- 
powder can  exhibit  the  charms  of  a  civilization  without 
a  creed.  In  the  gloomiest  haunts  of  disease  and 
misery,  madness,  idiotcy,  orphanage,  and  vice,  there  is 
Christ  at  work,  the  good  Samaritan,  pouring  oil  and 
wine  into  the  gaping  wounds  of  human  nature,  acting 
quite  upon  His  own  authority,  careless  who  looks 
askance,  not  asking  political  economy  whether  genuine 
charity  is  pauperisation,  nor  questioning  the  doctrine 
of  development,  whether  the  progress  of  the  race  de- 
mands the  pitiless  rejection  of  the  unfit,  and  selection 
only  of  the  strongest  specimens  for  survival.  That 
iron  creed  may  be  natural ;  but  if  so,  ours  is  super- 
natural, it  is  a  law  of  spirit  and  life,  setting  us  free  from 
that  base  and  selfish  law  of  sin  and  death.  The  exis- 
tence and  energy  of  Christian  forces  in  our  modern 
world  is  indisputable  :  never  was  Jesus  a  more  popular 
and  formidable  claimant  of  its  crown  ;  never  did  more 
Hosannas  follow  Him  into  the  temple.  But  now  as 
formerly  His  credentials  are  demanded :  what  is  His 
authority  and  how  has  He  come  by  it  ? 

Now  we  say  of  modern  as  of  ancient  inquiries,  that 
they  are  right ;  investigation  is  inevitable  and  a  duty. 

But    see    how   Jesus   dealt  with  those  men  of  old 


Mark  xi.  27-33-]  BAPTISM   OF  JOHN.  315 

Let  US  not  misunderstand  Him.  He  did  not  merel]f 
set  one  difficulty  against  another,  as  if  we  should  start 
some  scientific  problem,  and  absolve  ourselves  from  the 
duty  of  answering  any  inquiry  until  science  had  dis- 
posed of  this.  Doubtless  it  is  logical  enough  to  point 
out  that  all  creeds,  scientific  and  religious  alike,  have 
their  unsolved  problems.  But  the  reply  of  Jesus  was 
not  a  dexterous  evasion,  it  went  to  the  root  of  things, 
and,  therefore,  it  stands  good  for  time  and  for  eternity. 
He  refused  to  surrender  the  advantage  of  a  witness  to 
whom  He  was  entitled  :  He  demanded  that  all  the  facts 
and  not  some  alone  should  be  investigated.  In  truth 
their  position  bound  His  interrogators  to  examine  His 
credentials ;  to  do  so  was  not  only  their  privilege  but 
their  duty.  But  then  they  must  begin  at  the  beginning. 
Had  they  performed  this  duty  for  the  Baptist  ?  Who 
or  what  was  that  mysterious,  lonely,  stern  preacher  of 
righteousness  who  had  stirred  the  national  heart  so 
profoundly,  and  whom  all  men  still  revered  ?  They 
themselves  had  sent  to  question  him,  and  his  answer 
was  notorious :  he  had  said  that  he  was  sent  before  the 
Christ ;  he  was  only  a  voice,  but  a  voice  which  de- 
manded the  preparation  of  a  way  before  the  Lord 
Himself,  Who  was  approaching,  and  a  highway  for  our 
God.  What  was  the  verdict  of  these  investigators 
upon  that  great  movement  ?  What  would  they  make 
of  the  decisive  testimony  of  the  Baptist  ? 

As  the  perilous  significance  of  this  consummate  re- 
joinder bursts  on  their  crafty  intelligence,  as  they  recoil 
confounded  from  the  exposure  they  have  brought  upon 
themselves,  St.  Mark  tells  how  the  question  was  pressed 
home,  "  Answer  Me  ! "  But  they  dared  not  call  John 
an  impostor,  and  yet  to  confess  him  was  to  authenticjite 
the  seal  upon   our   Lord's  credentials.     And  Jesusi  is 


3i6  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK. 

palpably  within  His  rights  in  refusing  to  be  questioned 
of  such  authorities  as  these.  Yet  immediately  after- 
wards, with  equal  skill  and  boldness,  He  declared  Him- 
self, and  yet  defied  their  malice,  in  the  story  of  the 
lord  of  a  vineyard,  who  had  vainly  sent  many  servants 
to  claim  its  fruit,  and  at  the  last  sent  his  beloved  son. 

Now  apply  the  same  process  to  the  modern  oppo- 
nents of  the  faith,  and  it  will  be  found  that  multitudes 
of  their  assaults  on  Christianity  imply  the  negation  of 
what  they  will  not  and  dare  not  deny.  Some  will  not 
believe  in  miracles  because  the  laws  of  nature  work 
uniformly.  But  their  uniformity  is  undisturbed  by 
human  operations ;  the  will  of  man  wields,  without  can- 
celling, these  mighty  forces  which  surround  us.  And 
why  may  not  the  will  of  God  do  the  same,  if  there  be  a 
God  ?  Ask  them  whether  they  deny  His  existence, 
and  they  will  probably  declare  themselves  Agnostics, 
which  is  exactly  the  ancient  answer,  ''We  cannot  tell." 
Now  as  long  as  men  avow  their  ignorance  of  the 
existence  or  non-existence  of  a  Deity,  they  cannot  assert 
the  impossibihty  of  miracles,  for  miracles  are  simply 
actions  which  reveal  God,  as  men's  actions  reveal  their 
presence. 

Again,  a  demand  is  made  for  such  evidence,  to 
establish  the  faith,  as  cannot  be  had  for  any  fact 
beyond  the  range  of  the  exact  sciences.  We  are  asked, 
Why  should  we  stake  eternity  upon  anything  short  of 
demonstration  ?  Yet  it  will  be  found  that  the  objector 
is  absolutely  persuaded,  and  acts  on  his  persuasion  of 
many  "truths  which  never  can  be  proved" — of  the 
fidelity  of  his  wife  and  children,  and  above  all,  of  th« 
difference  between  right  and  wrong.  That  is  a  funda 
mental  principle :  deny  it,  and  society  becomes  impos- 
sible.    And  yet  sceptical  theories  are  widely  diffused 


Mark  xi,  27-33-]  BAPTISM  OF  JOHN.  317 

which  really,  though  unconsciously,  sap  the  very 
foundations  of  morality,  or  assert  that  it  is  not  from 
heaven  but  of  men,  a  mere  expediency,  a  prudential 
arrangement  of  society. 

Such  arguments  may  well  "  fear  the  people,"  for  the 
instincts  of  mankind  know  well  that  all  such  explana- 
tions of  conscience  do  really  explain  it  away. 

And  it  is  quite  necessary  in  our  days,  when  religion 
is  impugned,  to  see  whether  the  assumptions  of  its 
assailants  would  not  compromise  time  as  well  as  eternity, 
and  to  ask,  What  think  ye  of  all  those  fundamental 
principles  which  sustain  the  family,  society,  and  the 
state,  while  they  bear  testimony  to  the  Church  oi 
Christ 


CHAPTER  XIL 

THE  HUSBANDMEN, 

•'  And  He  began  to  speak  unto  them  in  parables.  A  man  planted  ■ 
vineyard,  and  set  a  hedge  about  it,  and  digged  a  pit  for  the  wine-press, 
and  built  a  tower,  and  let  it  out  to  husbandmen,  and  went  into  another 
country.  And  at  the  season  he  sent  to  the  husbandmen  a  servant,  that 
he  might  receive  from  the  husbandmen  of  the  fruits  of  the  vineyard. 
And  they  took  him,  and  beat  him,  and  sent  him  away  empty.  And 
again  he  sent  unto  them  another  servant  :  and  him  they  wounded  in 
the  head,  and  handled  shamefully.  And  he  sent  another ;  and  him  they 
killed  :  and  many  others  ;  beating  some,  and  killing  some.  He  had 
yet  one,  a  beloved  son  :  he  sent  him  last  unto  them,  saying,  They  will 
reverence  my  son.  But  those  husbandmen  said  among  themselves, 
This  is  the  heir ;  come,  let  us  kill  him,  and  the  inheritance  shall  be  ours. 
And  they  took  him,  and  killed  him,  and  cast  him  forth  out  of  the  vine- 
yard. What,  therefore,  will  the  Lord  of  the  vineyard  do  ?  He  will 
come  and  destroy  the  husbandmen,  and  will  give  the  vineyard  unto 
others.     Have  ye  not  read  even  this  Scripture  : 

The  stone  which  the  builders  rejected. 

The  same  was  made  the  head  of  the  comer  t 

This  was  from  the  Lord, 

And  it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes  ? 

And  they  sought  to  lay  hold  on  Him  ;  and  they  feared  the  multitude  ; 
for  they  perceived  that  He  spake  the  parable  against  them  :  and  they 
left  Him,  and  went  away.— Mark  xii.  1-12  (R.V.). 

THE  rulers  of  His  people  have  failed  to  make  Jesus 
responsible  to  their  inquisition.  He  has  exposed 
the  hoUowness  of  their  claim  to  investigate  His  com- 
mission, and  formally  refused  to  tell  them  by  what 
authority  He  did  these  things.  But  what  He  would 
not  say  for  an  unjust  cross-examination,  He  proclaimed 


Markxili-I2.]  THE  HUSBANDMEN.  319 

to  all  docile  hearts  ;  and  the  skill  which  disarmed  His 
enemies  is  not  more  wonderful  than  that  which  in  their 
hearing  answered  their  question,  yet  left  them  no  room 
for  accusation.  This  was  achieved  by  speaking  to  them 
in  parables.  The  indifferent  might  hear  and  not  per- 
ceive :  the  keenness  of  malice  would  surely  understand 
but  could  not  easily  impeach  a  simple  story  ;  but  to  His 
own  followers  it  would  be  given  to  know  the  mysteries 
of  the  kingdom  of  God. 

His  first  words  would  be  enough  to  arouse  attention. 
The  psalmist  had  told  how  God  brought  a  vine  out  of 
Eg3'pt,  and  cast  out  the  heathen  and  planted  it.  Isaiah 
had  carried  the  image  farther,  and  sung  of  a  vineyard 
in  a  very  fruitful  hill.  The  Well-beloved,  Whose  it  was, 
cleared  the  ground  for  it,  and  planted  it  with  the  choicest 
vine,  and  built  a  tower,  and  hewed  out  a  wine-press, 
and  looked  that  it  should  bring  forth  grapes,  but  it  had 
brought  forth  wild  grapes.  Therefore  He  would  lay  it 
waste.  This  well-known  and  recognized  type  the  Lord 
now  adopted,  but  modified  it  to  suit  His  purpose.  As 
in  a  former  parable  the  sower  slept  and  rose,  and  left 
the  earth  to  bring  forth  fruit  of  itself,  so  in  this,  the 
Lord  of  the  vineyard  let  it  out  to  husbandmen  and  went 
into  a  far  country.  This  is  our  Lord's  own  explanation 
of  that  silent  time  in  which  no  special  interpositions 
asserted  that  God  was  nigh,  no  prophecies  were  heard, 
no  miracles  startled  the  careless.  It  was  the  time 
when  grace  already  granted  should  have  been  peacefully 
ripening.  Now  we  live  in  such  a  period.  Unbelievers 
desire  a  sign.  Impatient  believers  argue  that  if  our 
Master  is  as  near  us  as  ever,  the  same  portents  must 
attest  His  presence ;  and,  therefore,  they  recognise  the 
gift  of  tongues  in  hysterical  clamour,  and  stake  the 
honour  of  religion  upon  faith-healing,  and  those  various 


320  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

obscure  phenomena  which  the  annals  of  every  fanati- 
cism can  rival.  But  the  sober  Christian  understands 
that,  even  as  the  Lord  of  the  vineyard  went  into 
another  country,  so  Christ  His  Son  (Who  in  spiritual 
communion  is  ever  with  His  people)  in  another  sense 
has  gone  into  a  far  country  to  receive  a  kingdom  and 
to  return.  In  the  interval,  marvels  would  be  simply 
an  anachronism.  The  best  present  evidence  of  the 
faith  lies  in  the  superior  fruitfulness  of  the  vineyard 
He  has  planted,  in  the  steady  advance  to  rich  maturity 
of  the  vine  He  has  imported  from  another  clime. 

At  this  point  Jesus  begins  to  add  a  new  significance  to 
the  ancient  metaphor.  The  husbandmen  are  mentioned. 
Men  there  were  in  the  ancient  Church,  who  were 
specially  responsible  for  the  culture  of  the  vineyard.  As 
He  spoke,  the  symbol  explained  itself.  The  imposing 
array  of  chief  priests  and  scribes  and  elders  stood  by, 
who  had  just  claimed  as  their  prerogative  that  He 
should  make  good  His  commission  to  their  scrutiny ;  and 
none  would  be  less  likely  to  mistake  His  meaning  than 
these  self-conscious  lovers  of  chief  seats  in  the  syna- 
gogues. The  structure  of  the  parable,  therefore,  admits 
their  official  rank,  as  frankly  as  when  Jesus  bade  His 
disciples  submit  to  their  ordinances  because  they  sit  in 
Moses'  seat.  But  He  passes  on,  easily  and  as  if  un- 
consciously, to  record  that  special  messengers  from 
heaven  had,  at  times,  interrupted  the  self-indulgent 
quietude  of  the  husbandmen.  Because  the  fruit  of  the 
vineyard  had  not  been  freely  rendered,  a  bondservant 
was  sent  to  demand  it.  The  epithet  implies  that  the 
messenger  was  lower  in  rank,  although  his  direct  mis- 
sion gave  him  authority  even  ever  the  keepers  of  the 
vineyard.  It  expresses  exactl}'  the  position  of  the  pro- 
phets, few  of  them  of  priestly  rank,  some  of  them  very 


Markxii.  I-I2.]  THE  HUSBANDMEN,  521 

humble  in  extraction;  and  very  rustic  in  expression, 
bui  all  sent  in  evil  days  to  faithless  husbandmen,  to 
remind  them  that  the  vineyard  was  not  their  own,  and 
to  receive  the  fruits  of  righteousness.  Again  and  again 
the  demand  is  heard,  for  He  sent  *'  many  others  ; "  and 
always  it  is  rejected  with  violence,  which  sometimes 
rises  to  murder.  As  they  listened,  they  must  have  felt 
that  all  this  was  true,  that  while  prophet  after  prophet 
had  cone  to  a  violent  end,  not  one  had  seen  the  official 
hierarchy  making  common  cause  with  him.  And  they 
must  also  have  felt  how  ruinous  was  this  rejoinder  to 
their  own  demand  that  the  people  should  forsake  a 
teacher  when  they  rejected  him.  Have  any  of  the 
rulers  or  of  the  Pharisees  believed  on  Him  ?  was  their 
scornful  question.  But  the  answer  was  plain.  As  long 
as  they  built  the  sepulchres  of  the  prophets,  and  gar- 
nished the  tombs  of  the  righteous,  and  said.  If  we  had 
been  in  the  days  of  our  fathers,  we  would  not  have 
been  partakers  with  them  in  the  blood  of  the  prophets, 
they  confessed  that  men  could  not  blindly  follow  a 
hierarchy  merely  as  such,  since  they  were  not  the  of- 
ficial successors  of  the  prophets  but  of  those  who  slew 
them.  The  worst  charge  brought  against  them  was 
only  that  they  acted  according  to  analogy,  and  filled  up 
the  deeds  of  their  fathers.  It  had  always  been  the 
same. 

The  last  argument  of  Stephen,  which  filled  his  judges 
with  madness,  was  but  the  echo  of  this  great  impeach- 
ment. Which  of  the  prophets  did  not  your  fathers 
persecute  ?  and  they  killed  them  which  showed 
before  of  the  coming  of  the  Righteous  One,  of  Whom 
ye  have  now  become  the  betrayers  and  murderers. 

That  last  defiance  of  heaven,  which  Stephen  thus 
denounced,  his    Master   distinctly  foretold.      And  He 

21 


3SS  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

added  the  appalling  circumstance,  that  however  they 
might  deceive  themselves  and  sophisticate  their  con- 
science, they  really  knew  Him  Who  He  was.  They 
felt,  at  the  very  least,  that  into  His  hands  should  pass 
all  the  authority  and  power  they  had  so  long  monopo- 
lized :  "  This  is  the  Heir;  come  let  us  kill  Him  and  the 
inheritance  shall  be  ours."  If  there  were  no  more,  the 
utterance  of  these  words  put  forth  an  extraordinary  claim. 
All  that  should  have  been  rendered  up  to  heaven  and 
was  withheld,  all  that  previous  messengers  had  demanded 
on  behalf  of  God  without  avail,  all  *'  the  inheritance  " 
which  these  wicked  husbandmen  were  intercepting,  all 
this  Jesus  announces  to  be  His  own,  while  reprehending 
the  dishonesty  of  any  other  claim  upon  it.  And  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  if  Jesus  be  not  Divine,  He  has  intercepted 
more  of  the  worship  due  to  the  Eternal,  has  attracted 
to  Himself  more  of  the  homage  of  the  loftiest  and  pro- 
foundest  minds,  than  any  false  teacher  within  the  pale 
of  monotheism  has  ever  done.  It  is  the  bounden  duty 
of  all  who  revere  Jesus  even  as  a  teacher,  of  all  who  have 
eyes  to  see  that  His  coming  was  the  greatest  upward 
step  in  the  progress  of  humanity,  to  consider  well  what 
was  implied,  when,  in  the  act  of  blaming  the  usurpers 
of  the  heritage  of  God,  Jesus  declared  that  inheritance 
to  be  His  own.  But  this  is  not  all,  though  it  is  what 
He  declares  that  the  husbandmen  were  conscious  of. 
The  parable  states,  not  only  that  He  is  heir,  but  heir 
by  virtue  of  His  special  relationship  to  the  Supreme. 
Others  are  bondservants  or  husbandmen,  but  He  is  the 
Son.  He  does  not  inherit  as  the  worthiest  and  most 
obedient,  but  by  right  of  birth ;  and  His  Father,  in  the 
act  of  sending  Him,  expects  even  these  bloodstained 
outlaws  to  reverence  His  Son.  In  such  a  phrase,  ap- 
plied to  such  criminals,  we  are  made  to  feel  the  lofty 


Msukxii.  I-I2.]  THE  HUSBANDMEN,  323 

rank  alike  of  the  Father  and  His  Son,  which  ought  to 
have  overawed  even  them.  And  when  we  read  that  "He 
had  yet  one,  a  beloved  Son/'  it  seems  as  if  the  veil  of 
eternity  were  uplifted,  to  reveal  a  secret  and  awful  in- 
timacy, of  which,  nevertheless,  some  glimmering  con- 
sciousness should  have  controlled  the  most  desperate 
heart. 

But  they  only  reckoned  that  if  they  killed  the  Heir, 
the  inheritance  would  become  their  own.  It  seems  the 
wildest  madness,  that  men  should  know  and  feel  Who 
He  was,  and  yet  expect  to  profit  by  desecrating  His 
rights.  And  yet  so  it  was  from  the  beginning.  If 
Herod  were  not  fearful  that  the  predicted  King  of  the 
Jews  was  indeed  born,  the  massacre  of  the  Innocents 
was  idle.  If  the  rulers  were  not  fearful  that  this  counsel 
and  work  was  of  God,  they  would  not,  at  Gamaliel's 
bidding,  have  refrained  from  the  Apostles.  And  it 
comes  still  closer  to  the  point  to  observe  that,  if  they  had 
attached  no  importance,  even  in  their  moment  of  triumph, 
to  the  prediction  of  His  rising  from  the  dead,  they 
would  not  have  required  a  guard,  nor  betrayed  the  secret 
recognition  which  Jesus  here  exposes.  The  same  blind 
miscalculation  is  in  every  attempt  to  obtain  profit  or 
pleasure  by  means  which  are  known  to  transgress  the 
laws  of  the  all-beholding  Judge  of  all.  It  is  committed 
every  day,  under  the  pressure  of  strong  temptation,  by 
men  who  know  clearly  that  nothing  but  misery  can 
result.  So  true  is  it  that  action  is  decided,  not  by  a 
course  of  logic  in  the  brain,  but  by  the  temperament 
and  bias  of  our  nature  as  a  whole.  We  need  not 
suppose  that  the  rulers  roundly  spoke  such  words  as 
these,  even  to  themselves.  The  infamous  motive 
lurked  in  ambush,  too  far  in  the  back  ground  of  the 
mind    perhaps   even   for   consciousness.     But   it   was 


324  GOSPEL    OF  ST.   MARK, 


there,  and  it  affected  their  decision,  as  lurking  passions 
and  self-interests  always  will,  as  surely  as  iron  deflects 
the  compass.  "  They  caught  Him  and  killed  Him," 
said  the  unfaltering  lips  of  their  victim.  And  He 
added  a  circumstance  of  pain  which  we  often  overlook, 
but  to  which  the  great  minister  of  the  circumcision 
was  keenly  sensitive,  and  often  reverted,  the  giving 
Him  up  to  the  Gentiles,  to  a  death  accursed  among  the 
Jews ;  "  they  cast  Him  forth  out  of  the  vineyard." 

All  evil  acts  are  based  upon  an  overestimate  of  the 
tolerance  of  God.  He  had  seemed  to  remain  passive 
while  messenger  after  messenger  was  beaten,  stoned,  or 
slain.  But  now  that  they  had  filled  up  the  iniquity  of 
their  fathers,  the  Lord  of  the  vineyard  would  come  in 
person  to  destroy  them,  and  give  the  vineyard  to  others. 
This  last  phrase  is  strangely  at  variance  with  the 
notion  that  the  days  of  a  commissioned  ministry  are 
over,  as,  on  the  other  hand,  the  whole  parable  is  at 
variance  with  the  notion  that  a  priesthood  can  be 
trusted  to  sit  in  exclusive  judgment  upon  doctrine  for 
the  Church. 

At  this  point  St.  Mark  omits  an  incident  so  striking, 
although  small,  that  its  absence  is  significant.  The 
by-standers  said,  ''God  forbid!"  and  when  the  horrified 
exclamation  betrayed  their  consciousness  of  the  position, 
Jesus  was  content,  without  a  word,  to  mark  their  self- 
conviction  by  His  searching  gaze.  "  He  looked  upon 
them."  The  omission  would  be  unaccountable  if  St. 
Mark  were  simply  a  powerful  narrator  of  graphic 
incidents  ;  but  it  is  explained  when  we  think  that  for 
him  the  manifestation  of  a  mighty  Personage  was  all 
in  all,  and  the  most  characteristic  and  damaging 
admissions  of  the  hierarchy  were  as  nothing  compared 
with  a  word  of  his  Lord.     Thereupon  he  goes  straight 


Mark  xiL  13-17.]       THE    TRIBUTE  MOIsEY.  325 

on  to  record  that,  besides  refuting  their  claim  by  the 
history  of  the  past,  and  asserting  His  own  supremacy 
in  a  phrase  at  once  guarded  in  form  and  decisive  in 
import,  Jesus  also  appealed  to  Scripture.  It  was 
written  that  by  special  and  marvellous  interposition  of 
the  Lord  a  stone  which  the  recognized  builders  had 
rejected  should  crown  the  building.  And  the  quotation 
was  not  only  decisive  as  showing  that  their  rejection 
could  not  close  the  controversy;  it  also  compensated, 
with  a  promise  of  final  v*'"tory,  the  ominous  words  in 
which  their  malice  had  seemed  to  do  its  worst.  Jesus 
often  predicted  His  death,  but  He  never  despaired  of 
His  kingdom. 

No  wonder  that  the  rulers  sought  to  arrest  Him, 
and  perceived  that  He  penetrated  and  despised  their 
schemes.  And  their  next  device  is  a  natural  outcome 
from  the  fact  that  they  feared  the  people,  but  did  not 
discontinue  their  intrigues;  for  this  was  a  crafty  and 
dangerous  attempt  to  estrange  from  Him  the  admiring 
multitude. 

THE   TRIBUTE  MONEY, 

"  And  they  send  unto  Him  certain  of  the  Pharisees  and  of  the  Hero- 
dians,  that  they  might  catch  Him  in  talk.  And  when  they  were  come, 
they  say  unto  Him,  Master,  we  know  that  Thou  art  true,  and  carest 
not  for  any  one  :  for  Thou  regardest  not  the  person  of  men,  but  of  a 
truth  teachest  the  way  of  God  :  Is  it  lawful  to  give  tribute  unto  Caesar, 
ornot?  Shall  we  give,  or  shall  we  not  give?  But  He,  knowing  their 
hypocrisy,  said  unto  them.  Why  tempt  ye  Me  ?  bring  Me  a  penny, 
that  I  may  see  it.  And  they  brought  it.  And  He  saith  unto  them, 
Whose  is  this  image  and  superscription  ?  And  they  said  unto  Him, 
Caesar's.  And  Jesus  said  unto  them,  Render  unto  Csesar  the  things 
that  are  Csesar's,  and  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's.  And  they 
marvelled  greatly  at  Him." — Mark  xii.  13-17  (R.V.). 

The  contrast  is  very  striking  between  this  incident  and 
the.  last.     Instead  of  a  challenge,  Jesus  is  »-espectfully 


326  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

consulted  ;  and  instead  of  a  formal  concourse  of  the 
authorities  of  His  religion,  He  is  Himself  the  authority 
to  Whom  a  few  perplexed  people  profess  to  submit  their 
difficulty.  Nevertheless,  it  is  a  new  and  subtle  effort 
of  the  enmity  of  His  defeated  foes.  They  have  sent  to 
Him  certain  Pharisees  who  will  excite  the  popular 
indignation  if  He  yields  anything  to  the  foreigner,  and 
Herodians  who  will,  if  He  refuses,  bring  upon  Him  the 
colder  and  deadlier  vengeance  of  Rome.  They  flattei 
in  order  to  stimulate,  that  fearless  utterance  which 
must  often  have  seemed  to  them  so  rash  :  "  We  know 
that  Thou  art  true,  and  carest  not  for  any  one,  for 
Thou  regardest  not  the  person  of  men,  but  of  a  truth 
teachest  the  way  of  God."  And  they  appeal  to  a 
higher  motive  by  representing  the  case  to  be  one  of 
practical  and  personal  urgency.  "Shall  we  give,  or 
shall  we  not  give  ?  " 

Never  was  it  more  necessary  to  join  the  wisdom  of 
the  serpent  to  the  innocence  of  the  dove,  for  it  would 
seem  that  He  must  needs  answer  directly,  and  that  no 
direct  answer  can  fail  to  have  the  gravest  consequences. 
But  in  their  eagerness  to  secure  this  menacing  position, 
they  have  left  one  weak  point  in  the  attack.  They 
have  made  the  question  altogether  a  practical  one. 
The  abstract  doctrine  of  the  right  to  di  ,ve  out  a  foreign 
power,  of  the  limits  of  authority  and  freedom,  they 
have  not  raised.  It  is  simply  a  question  of  the  hour, 
Shall  we  give  or  shall  we  not  give  ? 

And  Jesus  baffled  them  by  treating  it  as  such. 
There  was  no  longer  a  national  coinage,  except  only  of 
the  half  shekel  for  the  temple  tax.  When  He  asked 
them  for  a  smaller  coin,  they  produced  a  Roman  penny 
stamped  with  the  effigy  of  Caesar.  Thus  they  confessed 
the   use   of  the    Roman    currency.     Now    since   they 


Mark  xii.  13-17.]       THE   TRIBUTE  MONEY,  337 

accepted  the  advantages  of  subjugation,  they  ought 
also  to  endure  its  burdens :  since  they  traded  as 
Roman  subjects,  they  ought  to  pay  the  Roman  tribute. 
Not  He  had  preached  submission,  but  they  had  avowed 
it ;  and  any  consequent  unpopularity  would  fall  not 
upon  Him  but  them.  They  had  answered  their  own 
question.  And  Jesus  laid  down  the  broad  and  simple 
rule,  '*  Render  (pay  back)  unto  Caesar  the  things  that 
are  Caesar's,  and  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's. 
And  they  marvelled  greatly  at  Him."  No  wonder  they 
marvelled,  for  it  would  be  hard  to  find  in  all  the  records 
of  philosophy  so  ready  and  practical  a  device  to  baffle 
such  cunning  intriguers,  such  keenness  in  One  Whose 
life  was  so  far  removed  from  the  schools  of  worldly 
wisdom,  joined  with  so  firm  a  grasp  on  principle,  in  an 
utterance  so  brief,  yet  going  down  so  far  to  the  roots 
of  action. 

Now  the  words  of  Jesus  are  words  for  all  time ; 
even  when  He  deals  with  a  question  of  the  hour,  He 
treats  it  from  the  point  of  view  of  eternal  fitness  and 
duty ;  and  this  command  to  render  unto  Caesar  the 
things  which  are  Caesar's  has  become  the  charter  of 
the  state  against  all  usurpations  of  tyrannous  eccle- 
siastics. A  sphere  is  recognized  in  which  obedience 
to  the  law  is  a  duty  to  God.  But  it  is  absurd  to  pre- 
tend that  Christ  taught  blind  and  servile  obedience  to 
all  tyrants  in  all  circumstances,  for  this  would  often 
make  it  impossible  to  obey  the  second  injunction,  and 
to  render  unto  God  the  things  which  are  God's, — a 
clause  which  asserts  in  turn  the  right  of  conscience 
and  the  Church  against  all  secular  encroachments. 
The  point  to  observe  is,  that  the  decision  of  Jesus  is 
simply  an  inference,  a  deduction.  St.  Matthew  has 
inserted    the    word    "  therefore,"    and   it   is   certainly 


JS8  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

implied  :  render  unto  Caesar  the  things  which  you  con- 
fess to  be  his  own,  which  bear  his  image  upon  their 
face. 

Can  we  suppose  that  no  such  inference  gives  point 
to  the  second  clause  ?  It  would  then  become,  like  too 
many  of  our  pious  sayings,  a  mere  supplement,  inappro- 
priate, however  excellent,  a  make  weight,  and  a  plati- 
tude. No  example  of  such  irrelevance  can  be  found 
in  the  story  of  our  Lord.  When,  finding  the  likeness 
of  Caesar  on  the  coin.  He  said,  Render,  therefore,  unto 
Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesars,  and  unto  God  the 
things  that  are  God's,  He  at  least  suggested  that  the 
reason  for  both  precepts  ran  parallel,  and  the  image  of 
the  higher  and  heavenlier  Monarch  could  be  found  on 
what  He  claims  of  us.  And  it  is  so.  He  claims  all 
we  have  and  all  we  are.  "The  earth  is  the  Lord's, 
and  the  fulness  thereof :  **  and  "  I  have  made  thee, 
thou  art  Mine."  And  for  us  and  ours  alike  the  argu- 
ment holds  good.  All  the  visible  universe  bears  deeply 
stamped  into  its  substance  His  image  and  superscrip- 
tion. The  grandeur  of  mountains  and  stars,  the 
fairness  of  violet  and  harebell,  are  alike  revelations  of 
the  Creator.  The  heavens  declare  His  glory:  the 
firmament  showeth  His  handiwork  :  the  earth  is  full  of 
His  riches:  all  the  discoveries  which  expand  our 
mastery  over  nature  and  disease,  over  time  and  space, 
are  proofs  of  His  wisdom  and  goodness,  Who  laid  the 
amazing  plan  which  we  grow  wise  by  tracing  out. 
Find  a  comer  on  which  contrivance  and  benevolence 
have  not  stamped  the  royal  image,  and  we  may  doubt 
whether  that  bleak  spot  owes  Him  tribute.  But  no 
desert  is  so  blighted,  no  solitude  so  forlorn. 

And  we  should  render  unto  God  the  things  which 
are  God's,  seeing  His  likeness  in  His  world.     "  For  the 


Mark  xii.  13-17.]       THE   TRIBUTE  MONEY,  329 

invisible  things  of  Him  since  the  creation  of  the  world 
are  clearly  seen,  being  perceived  through  the  things 
which  are  made,  even  His  everlasting  power  and 
divinity." 

And  if  most  of  all  He  demands  the  love,  the  heart  of 
man,  here  also  He  can  ask,  "  Whose  image  and  super- 
scription is  this  ?  "  For  in  the  image  of  God  made  He 
man.  It  is  sometimes  urged  that  this  image  was  quite 
effaced  when  Adam  fell.  But  it  was  not  to  protect 
the  unfallen  that  the  edict  was  spoken  *'  Whoso  sheddeth 
man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be  shed,  for  in 
the  im.age  of  God  made  He  man."  He  was  not  an 
unfallen  man  of  whom  St.  Paul  said  that  he  "ought 
not  to  have  his  head  veiled,  forasmuch  as  he  is  the 
image  and  glory  of  God  ; "  neither  were  they  unfallen, 
of  whom  St.  James  said,  "We  curse  men  which  are 
made  after  the  likeness  of  God  "  (Gen.  ix.  6 ;  I  Cor.  xi. 
7 ;  James  iii.  9).  Common  men,  for  whom  the  assassin 
lurks,  who  need  instruction  hov/  to  behave  in  church, 
and  whom  others  scorn  and  curse,  these  bear  upon 
them  an  awful  likeness;  and  even  when  they  refuse 
tribute  to  their  king,  He  can  ask  them,  Whose  is  this 
image  ? 

We  see  it  in  the  intellect,  ever  demanding  new 
worlds  to  conquer,  overwhelming  us  with  its  victories 
over  time  and  space.  "  In  apprehension  how  like  a 
God."  Alas  for  us  I  if  we  forget  that  the  Spirit  of 
knowledge  and  wisdom  is  no  other  than  the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord  God. 

We  see  this  likeness  far  more  in  our  moral  nature. 
It  is  true  that  sin  has  spoiled  and  wasted  this,  yet  there 
survives  in  man's  heart,  as  nowhere  else  in  our  world, 
a  strange  sympathy  with  the  holiness  and  love  of  God. 
No  other  of  His  attributes  has  the  same  power  to  thrill 


330  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 

US.  Tell  me  that  He  lit  the  stars  and  can  quench  them 
with  a  word,  and  I  reverence,  perhaps  I  fear  Him  ;  yet 
such  power  is  outside  and  beyond  my  sphere  ;  it  fails  to 
touch  me,  it  is  high,  I  cannot  attain  unto  it.  Even  the 
rarer  human  gifts,  the  power  of  a  Czar,  the  wisdom  of 
Bacon,  are  thus  beyond  me,  I  am  unkindled,  they  do 
not  find  me  out.  But  speak  of  holiness,  even  the 
stainless  holiness  of  God,  undefiled  through  all  eternity, 
and  you  shake  the  foundations  of  my  being.  And 
why  does  the  reflection  that  God  is  pure  humble  me 
more  than  the  knowledge  that  God  is  omnipotent  ? 
Because  it  is  my  spiritual  nature  which  is  most  con- 
scious of  the  Divine  image,  blurred  and  defaced 
indeed,  but  not  obliterated  yet.  Because  while  I 
listen  I  am  dimly  conscious  of  my  birthright,  my 
destiny,  that  I  was  born  to  resemble  this,  and  all 
is  lost  if  I  come  short  of  it.  Because  every  child  and 
every  sinner  feels  that  it  is  more  possible  for  him  to 
be  like  his  God  than  like  Newton,  or  Shakespere,  or 
Napoleon.  Because  the  work  of  grace  is  to  call  in 
the  worn  and  degraded  coinage  of  humanity,  and,  as  the 
mint  restamps  and  reissues  the  pieces  which  have 
grown  thin  and  worn,  so  to  renew  us  after  the  image 
of  Him  that  created  us. 


CHRIST  AAD   THE  SADDUCEES, 

**  And  there  come  unto  Him  Sadducees,  which  say  that  there  is  no 
resurrection  :  and  they  asked  Him,  saying,  Master,  Moses  wrote  unto 
us,  If  a  man's  brother  die,  and  leave  a  wife  behind  him,  and  leave  no 
child,  that  his  brother  should  take  his  wife,  and  raise  up  seed  unto  his 
brother.  There  were  seven  brethren  :  and  the  first  took  a  wife,  and 
dying  left  no  seed  ;  and  the  second  took  her,  and  died,  leaving  no  seed 
behind  him  ;  and  the  third  likewise  :  and  the  seven  left  no  seed.  Last 
of  all  the  woman  also  died.  In  the  resurrection  whose  wife  shall  she 
be  of  them  ?  for  the  seven  had  her  to  wife.     Jesus  said  imto  them,  Is  it 


Mark  xii.  18-27.1    CHRIST  AND  THE  SADDUCEES,  331 

not  for  this  cause  that  ye  err,  that  ye  know  not  the  Scriptures,  nor  the 
power  of  God  ?  For  when  they  shall  rise  from  the  dead,  they  neither 
marry,  nor  are  given  in  marriage  ;  but  are  as  angels  in  heaven.  But  as 
touching  the  dead,  that  they  are  raised;  have  ye  not  read  in  the  book 
of  Moses,  in  the  place  concerning  the  Bush,  how  God  spake  unto  him, 
saying,  I  am  the  God  of  Abraham,  and  the  God  of  Isaac,  and  the  God 
of  Jacob?  He  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead,  but  of  the  living  :  ye  do 
greatly  err."— Mark  xii.  18-27  (R.V.). 

Christ  came  that  the  thoughts  of  many  hearts  might 
be  revealed.  And  so  it  was,  that  when  He  had  silenced 
the  examination  of  the  hierarchy,  and  bafQed  their  craft, 
the  Sadducees  were  tempted  to  assail  Him.  Like  the 
rationalists  of  every  age,  they  stood  coldly  aloof  from 
popular  movements,  and  we  seldom  find  them  interfering 
with  Christ  or  His  followers,  until  their  energies  were 
roused  by  the  preaching  of  His  Resurrection,  so  directly 
opposed  to  their  fundamental  doctrines. 

Their  appearance  now  is  extremely  natural.  The 
repulse  of  every  other  party  left  them  the  only  champions 
of  orthodoxy  against  the  new  movement,  with  every- 
thing to  win  by  success,  and  little  to  lose  by  failure. 
There  is  a  tone  of  quiet  and  confident  irony  in  their 
interrogation,  well  befitting  an  upper-class  group,  a 
secluded  party  of  lefined  critics,  rather  than  practical 
teachers  with  a  mission  to  their  fellow-men.  They 
break  utterly  new  ground  by  raising  an  abstract  and 
subtle  question,  a  purely  intellectual  problem,  but  one 
which  reduced  the  doctrine  of  a  resurrection  to  an 
absurdity,  if  only  their  premises  can  be  made  good. 
And  this  peculiarity  is  often  overlooked  in  criticism  upon 
our  Lord's  answer.  Its  intellectual  subtlety  was  only 
the  adoption  by  Christ  of  the  weapons  of  his  adver- 
saries. But  at  the  same  time.  He  lays  great  and  special 
stress  upon  the  authority  of  Scripture,  in  this  encounter 
with  the  party  which  least  acknowledged  it. 


332  GOSPEL  OF  ST,    MARK. 

Their  objection,  stated  in  its  simplest  forin,  is  the 
complication  which  would  result  if  the  successive  ties 
for  which  death  makes  room  must  all  revive  together 
when  death  is  abolished.  If  a  woman  has  married  a 
second  time,  whose  wife  shall  she  be  ?  But  their  state- 
ment of  the  case  is  ingenious,  not  only  because  they 
push  the  difficulty  to  an  absurd  and  ludicrous  extent,, 
but  much  more  so  because  they  base  it  upon  a  Divine 
ordinance.  If  there  be  a  Resurrection,  Moses  must 
answer  for  all  the  confusion  that  will  ensue,  for  Moses 
gave  the  commandment,  by  virtue  of  which  a  woman 
married  seven  times.  No  offspring  of  any  union  gave 
it  a  special  claim  upon  her  future  life.  **  In  the  Resur- 
rection, whose  wife  shall  she  be  of  them  ?  "  they  ask, 
conceding  with  a  quiet  sarcasm  that  this  absurd  event 
must  needs  occur. 

For  these  controversialists  the  question  was  solely  of 
the  physical  tie,  which  had  made  of  twain  one  flesh. 
They  had  no  conception  that  the  body  can  be  raised 
otherwise  than  as  it  perished,  and  they  rightly  enough 
felt  certain  that  on  such  a  resurrection  woeful  compli- 
cations must  ensue. 

Now  Jesus  does  not  rebuke  their  question  with  such 
stern  words  as  He  had  just  employed  to  others,  "  Why 
tempt  ye  me,  ye  hypocrites  ? "  They  were  doubtless 
sincere  in  their  conviction,  and  at  least  they  had  not 
come  in  the  disguise  of  perplexed  inquirers  and  almost 
disciples.  He  blames  them,  but  more  gently  :  '*  Is  it 
not  for  this  cause  that  ye  err,  because  ye  know  not  the 
Scriptures,  nor  the  power  of  God  ?  '*  They  could  not 
know  one  and  not  the  other,  but  the  boastful  wisdom 
of  this  world,  so  ready  to  point  a  jibe  by  quoting  Moses, 
had  never  truly  grasped  the  meaning  of  the  writer  it 
appealed  to. 


Mark  xii.  18-27.]    CHRIST  AND  THE  SADDUCEES,  333 


Jesus,  it  is  plain,  does  not  quote  Scripture  only  as 
having  authority  with  His  opponents  :  He  accepts  it 
heartily :  He  declares  that  human  error  is  due  to  ignor- 
ance of  its  depth  and  range  of  teaching  ;  and  He  recog- 
nizes the  full  roll  of  the  sacred  books  *'the  Scriptures." 
It  has  rightly  been  said,  that  none  of  the  explicit 
statements,  commonly  relied  upon,  do  more  to  vindicate 
for  Holy  Writ  the  authority  of  our  Lord,  than  this 
simple  incidental  question. 

Jesus  proceeded  to  restate  the  doctrine  of  the  Resur- 
rection and  then  to  prove  it ;  and  the  more  His  brief 
words  are  pondered,  the  more  they  will  expand  and 
deepen. 

St.  Paul  has  taught  us  that  the  dead  in  Christ  shall 
rise  first  (i  Thess.  iv.  i6).  Of  such  attainment  it  is 
written.  Blessed  and  holy  is  he  that  hath  part  in  the 
first  Resurrection  (Rev.  xx.  6). 

Now  since  among  the  lost  there  could  be  no  question 
of  family  ties,  and  consequent  embarrassments,  Jesus 
confines  His  statement  to  these  happy  ones,  of  whom 
the  Sadducee  could  think  no  better  than  that  their  new 
life  should  be  a  reproduction  of  their  existence  here, — 
a  theory  which  they  did  wisely  in  rejecting.  He  uses 
the  very  language  taken  up  afterwards  by  His  apostle, 
and  says,  "When  they  shall  rise  from  the  dead." 
And  He  asserts  that  marriage  is  at  an  end,  and  they 
are  as  the  angels  in  heaven.  Here  is  no  question  of 
the  duration  of  pure  and  tender  human  affection,  nor 
do  these  words  compromise  in  any  degree  the  hopes  of 
faithful  hearts,  which  cling  to  one  another.  Surely  we 
may  believe  that  in  a  life  which  is  the  outcome  and  re- 
sultant of  this  life,  as  truly  as  the  grain  is  of  the  seed, 
in  a  life  also  where  nothing  shall  be  forgotten,  but  on 
the  contrary  we  shall   know  what  we  know  not  now, 


334  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

there,  tracing  back  the  flood  of  their  immortal  energies 
to  obscure  fountains  upon  earth,  and  seeing  all  that  each 
has  owed  half  unconsciously  to  the  fidelity  and  wisdom 
of  the  other,  the  true  partners  and  genuine  helpmeets 
of  this  world  shall  for  ever  drink  some  peculiar  gladness, 
each  from  the  other's  joy.  There  is  no  reason  why  the 
close  of  formal  unions  which  include  the  highest  and 
most  perfect  friendships,  should  forbid  such  friendships 
to  survive  and  flourish  in  the  more  kindly  atmosphere 
of  heaven. 

What  Christ  asserts  is  simply  the  dissolution  of  the 
tie,  as  an  inevitable  consequence  of  such  a  change  in 
the  very  nature  of  the  blessed  ones  as  makes  the  tie 
incongruous  and  impossible.  In  point  of  fact,  marriage 
as  the  Sadducee  thought  of  it,  is  but  the  counterpoise 
of  death,  renewing  the  face  which  otherwise  would 
disappear,  and  when  death  is  swallowed  up,  it  vanishes 
as  an  anachronism.  In  heaven  "  they  are  as  the 
angels,"  the  body  itself  being  made  '*  a  spiritual  body," 
set  free  from  the  appetites  of  the  flesh,  and  in  harmony 
with  the  glowing  aspirations  of  the  Spirit,  which  now 
it  weighs  upon  and  retards.  If  any  would  object  that 
to  be  as  the  angels  is  to  be  without  a  body,  rather 
than  to  possess  a  spiritual  body,  it  is  answer  enough 
that  the  context  implies  the  existence  of  a  body,  since 
no  person  ever  spoke  of  a  resurrection  of  the  soul. 
Moreover  it  is  an  utterly  unwarrantable  assumption 
that  angels  are  wholly  without  substance.  Many  verses 
appear  to  imply  the  opposite,  and  the  cubits  of  measure- 
ment of  the  New  Jerusalem  were  "according  to  the 
measure  of  a  man,  that  is  of  an  angel"  (Rev.  xxi.  17), 
which  seems  to  assert  a  very  curious  similarity  indeed. 

The  objection  of  the  Sadducees  was  entirely  obviated, 
therefore    by  the  broader,  bolder,  and   more  spiritual 


Mark  xii.  18-27-]     CHRIST  AND  THE  SADDUCEES.  335 

view  of  a  resurrection  which  Jesus  taught.  And  by 
far  the  greater  part  of  the  cavils  against  this  same 
doctrine  which  delight  the  infidel  lecturer  and  popular 
essayist  of  to-day  would  also  die  a  natural  death,  if  the 
free  and  spiritual  teaching  of  Jesus,  and  its  expansion 
by  St.  Paul,  were  understood.  But  we  breathe  a  wholly 
different  air  when  we  read  the  speculations  even  of  so 
great  a  thinker  as  St.  Augustine,  who  supposed  that  we 
should  rise  with  bodies  somewhat  greater  than  our 
present  ones,  because  all  the  hair  and  nails  we  ever 
trimmed  away  must  be  diffused  throughout  the  mass, 
lest  they  should  produce  deformity  by  their  excessive 
proportions  {De  Civitate  Dei,  xxii.  19).  To  all  such 
speculation,  he  who  said,  To  every  seed  his  own  body, 
says,  Thou  fool,  thou  sowest  not  that  body  that  shall  be. 
But  though  Jesiis  had  met  these  questions,  it  did  not 
follow  that  His  doctrine  was  true,  merely  because  a 
certain  difficulty  did  not  apply.  And,  therefore,  He 
proceeded  to  prove  it  by  the  same  Moses  to  whom  they 
had  appealed,  and  whom  Jesus  distinctly  asserts  to  be 
the  author  of  the  book  of  Exodus.  God  said,  '*  I  am 
the  God  of  Abraham,  and  the  God  of  Isaac,  and  the 
God  of  Jacob.  He  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead,  but  of 
the  living :  ye  do  greatly  err." 

The  argument  is  not  based  upon  the  present  tense 
of  the  verb  to  be  in  this  assertion,  for  in  the  Greek  the 
verb  is  not  expressed.  In  fact  the  argument  is  not  a 
verbal  one  at  all ;  or  else  it  would  be  satisfied  by  the 
doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the  spirit,  and  would  not 
establish  any  resurrection  of  the  body.  It  is  based 
upon  the  immutability  of  God,  and,  therefore,  the  im- 
perishability of  all  that  ever  entered  into  vital  and  real 
relationship  with  Him.  To  cancel  such  a  relationship 
wruld  introduce  a  change  into  the  Eternal.    And  Moses, 


||6  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARX, 

to  whom  they  appealed,  had  heard  God  expressly 
proclaim  Himself  the  God  of  those  who  had  long  since 
passed  out  of  time.  It  was,  therefore,  clear  that  His 
relationship  with  them  Hved  on,  and  this  guaranteed 
that  no  portion,  even  the  humblest,  of  their  true 
personality  should  perish.  Now  the  body  is  as  real  a 
part  of  humanity,  as  the  soul  and  spirit  are,  although  a 
much  lowlier  part.    And,  therefore,  it  must  not  really  die. 

It  is  solemn  to  observe  how  Jesus,  in  this  second 
part  of  His  argument,  passes  from  the  consideration  of 
the  future  of  the  blessed  to  that  of  all  mankind ;  *'  as 
touching  the  dead  that  they  are  raised."  With  others 
than  the  blessed,  therefore,  God  has  a  real  though  a 
dread  relationship.  And  it  will  prove  hard  to  reconcile 
this  argument  of  Christ  with  the  existence  of  any  time 
when  any  soul  shall  be  extinguished. 

"  The  body  is  for  the  Lord,"  said  St.  Paul,  arguing 
against  the  vices  of  the  flesh,  "and  the  Lord  for  the 
body."  From  these  words  of  Christ  he  may  well  have 
learned  that  profound  and  far-reaching  doctrine,  which 
will  never  have  done  its  work  in  the  Church  and  in  the 
world,  until  whatever  defiles,  degrades,  or  weakens  that 
which  the  Lord  has  consecrated  is  felt  to  blaspheme 
by  implication  the  God  of  our  manhood,  unto  Whom 
all  our  life  ought  to  be  lived  ;  until  men  are  no  longer 
dwarfed  in  mines,  nor  poisoned  in  foul  air,  nor  massacred 
in  battle,  men  whose  intimate  relationship  with  God 
the  Eternal  is  of  such  a  kind  as  to  guarantee  the 
resurrection  of  the  poor  frames  w^hich  we  destroy. 

How  much  more  does  this  great  proclamation  frown 
upon  the  sins  by  which  men  dishonour  their  own  flesh. 
"  Know  ye  not,"  asked  the  apostle,  carrying  the  same 
doctrine  to  its  utmost  limit,  "  that  your  bodies  are  the 
temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ?  "    So  truly  is  God  our  God. 


Mark  xii.  28-34.]     THE  DISCERNING  SCRIBE,  337 


THE   DISCERNING  SCRIBE, 

"And  one  of  the  scribes  came,  and  heard  them  questioning  to- 
gether, and  knowing  that  He  had  answered  them  well,  asked  Him, 
What  commandment  is  the  first  of  all?  Jesus  answered,  The  first  is, 
Hear,  O  Israel ;  The  Lord  our  God,  the  Lord  is  one  :  and  thou  shalt 
love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and 
with  all  thy  mind,  and  with  all  thy  strength.  The  second  is  this,  Thou 
shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself.  There  is  none  other  commandment 
greater  than  these.  And  the  scribe  said  unto  Him,  Of  a  truth,  Master, 
Thou  hast  well  said  that  He  is  one  ;  and  there  is  none  other  but  He  ; 
and  to  love  Him  with  all  the  heart,  and  with  all  the  understanding,  and 
with  all  the  strength,  and  to  love  his  neighbour  as  himself,  is  much 
more  than  all  whole  burnt  offerings  and  sacrifices.  And  when  Jesus 
saw  that  he  answered  discreetly,  He  said  unto  him,  Thou  art  not  far 
from  the  kingdom  of  God.  And  no  man  after  that  durst  ask  Him  any 
question." — Mark  xiL  28-34  (R.V.). 

The  praise  which  Jesus  bestowed  upon  this  lawyer  is 
best  understood  when  we  take  into  account  the  circum- 
stances, the  pressure  of  assailants  with  ensnaring 
questions,  the  sullen  disappointment  or  palpable  ex- 
asperation of  the  party  to  which  the  scribe  belonged. 
He  had  probably  sympathized  in  their  hostihty;  and 
had  come  expecting  and  desiring  the  discomfiture  of 
Jesus.  But  if  so,  he  was  a  candid  enemy ;  and  as 
each  new  attempt  revealed  more  clearly  the  spiritual 
insight,  the  self-possession  and  balanced  wisdom  of 
Him  Who  had  been  represented  as  a  dangerous  fanatic, 
his  unfriendly  opinion  began  to  waver.  For  he  too 
was  at  issue  with  popular  views :  he  had  learned  in 
the  Scriptures  that  God  desireth  not  sacrifice,  that 
incense  might  be  an  abomination  to  Him,  and  new 
moons  and  sabbaths  things  to  do  away  with.  And 
so,  perceiving  that  He  had  answered  them  well,  the 
scribe  asked,  upon  his  ow^n  account,  a  very  different 
question,  not  rarely  debated  in  their  schools,  and  often 

22 


3^  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

answered  with  grotesque  frivolity,  but  which  he  felt 
to  go  down  to  the  very  root  of  things.  Instead  ol 
challenging  Christ's  authority,  he  tries  His  wisdom. 
Instead  of  striving  to  entangle  Him  in  dangerous 
politics,  or  to  assail  with  shallow  ridicule  the  problems 
of  the  life  to  come,  he  asks,  What  commandment  is  the 
fin:  of  all?  And  if  we  may  accept  as  complete  this 
abrupt  statement  of  his  interrogation,  it  would  seem  to 
have  been  drawn  from  him  by  a  sudden  impulse,  or 
wrenched  by  an  over-mastering  desire,  despite  of  re- 
luctance and  false  shame. 

The  Lord  answered  him  with  great  solemnity  and 
emphasis.  He  might  have  quoted  the  commandment 
only.  But  He  at  once  supported  the  precept  itself  and 
also  His  own  view  of  its  importance  by  including  the 
majestic  prologue,  "  Hear,  O  Israel ;  the  Lord  our  God, 
the  Lord  is  one ;  and  thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all 
thy  mind,  and  with  all  thy  strength." 

The  unity  of  God,  what  a  massive  and  reassuring 
thought !  Amid  the  debasements  of  idolatry,  with  its 
deification  of  every  impulse  and  every  force,  amid  the 
distractions  of  chance  and  change,  seemingly  so  capri- 
cious and  even  discordant,  amid  the  complexities  of  the 
universe  and  its  phenomena,  there  is  wonderful  strength 
and  wisdom  in  the  reflection  that  God  is  one.  All 
changes  obey  His  hand  which  holds  the  rein  ;  by  Him 
the  worlds  were  made.  The  exiled  patriarch  was 
overwhelmed  by  the  majesty  of  the  revelation  that  his 
fathers'  God  was  God  in  Bethel  even  as  in  Beer-sheba : 
it  charmed  away  the  bitter  sense  of  isolation,  it  un- 
sealed in  him  the  fountains  of  worship  and  trust,  and 
sent  him  forward  with  a  new  hope  of  protection  and 
prosperity.     The  unity  of  God,  really  apprehended,  is 


Mark  xil.  28-34.]     THE  DISCERNING  SCRIBE,  339 

a  basis  for  the  human  will  to  repose  upon,  and  to 
become  self-consistent  and  at  peace.  It  was  the 
parent  of  the  fruitful  doctrine  of  the  unity  of  nature 
which  underlies  all  the  scientific  victories  of  the  modem 
world.  In  religion,  St.  Paul  felt  that  it  implies  the 
equal  treatment  of  all  the  human  race,  when  he  asked, 
"  Is  He  the  God  of  Jews  only  ?  Is  He  not  the  God 
of  Gentiles  also  ?  Yea,  of  Gentiles  also,  if  so  be  that 
God  is  one  "  (Rom  iii.  29  R. V.).  To  be  one,  he  seems 
to  say,  implies  being  universal  also.  And  if  it  thus 
excludes  the  reprobation  of  races,  it  disproves  equally 
that  of  individual  souls,  and  all  thought  of  such  un- 
equal and  partial  treatment  as  should  inspire  one  with 
hope  of  indulgence  in  guilt,  or  with  fear  that  his  way 
is  hid  from  the  Lord. 

But  if  this  be  true,  if  there  be  one  fountain  of  all 
life  and  loveliness  and  joy,  of  all  human  tenderness  and 
all  moral  glory,  how  are  we  bound  to  love  Him.  Every 
other  affection  should  only  deepen  our  adoring  loyalty 
to  Him  Who  gives  it.  No  cold  or  formal  service  can 
meet  His  claim,  Who  gives  us  the  power  to  serve. 
No,  we  must  love  Him.  And  as  all  our  nature  comes 
from  Him,  so  must  all  be  consecrated  :  that  love 
must  embrace  all  the  affections  of  "  heart  and  soul " 
panting  after  Him,  as  the  hart  after  the  waterbrooks ; 
and  all  the  deep  and  steady  convictions  of  the  "  mind," 
musing  on  the  work  of  His  hand,  able  to  give  a  reason 
for  its  faith;  and  all  the  practical  homage  of  the 
"  strength,"  living  and  dying  to  the  Lord.  How  easy, 
then,  would  be  the  fulfilment  of  His  commandments  in 
detail,  and  how  surely  it  would  follow.  All  the  pre- 
cepts of  the  first  table  are  clearly  implied  in  this. 

In    such    another  commandment  were   summed   up 
also    the    precepts   which   concerned    our   neighbour 


340  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

When  we  love  him  as  ourselves  (neither  exaggerating 
his  claims  beyond  our  own,  nor  allowing  our  own  to 
trample  upon  his),  then  we  shall  work  no  ill  to  our 
neighbour,  and  so  love  shall  fulfil  the  law.  There  is 
none  other  commandment  greater  than  these. 

The  questioner  saw  all  the  nobility  of  this  reply ; 
and  the  disdain,  the  anger,  and  perhaps  the  persecution 
of  his  associates  could  not  prevent  him  from  an  admiring 
and  reverent  repetition  of  the  Saviour's  words,  and  an 
avowal  that  all  the  ceremonial  observances  of  Judaism 
were  as  nothing  compared  with  this. 

While  he  was  thus  judging,  he  was  being  judged. 
As  he  knew  that  Jesus  had  ansvv^ered  well,  so  Jesus 
saw  that  he  answered  discreetly  ;  and  in  view  of  his  un- 
prejudiced judgment,  his  spiritual  insight,  and  his  frank 
approval  of  One  Who  was  then  despised  and  rejected. 
He  said,  Thou  art  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God. 
But  he  was  not  yet  within  it,  and  no  man  knows  his  fate. 

Sad  yet  instructive  it  is  to  think  that  he  may  have 
won  the  approval  of  Christ,  and  heard  His  words,  so 
full  of  discernment  and  of  desire  for  his  adherence,  and 
yet  never  crossed  the  invisible  and  mysterious  boundary 
which  he  then  approached  so  nearly.  But  we  also  may 
know,  and  admire,  and  confess  the  greatness  and 
goodness  of  Jesus,  without  forsaking  all  to  follow  Him. 

His  enemies  had  been  defeated  and  put  to  shame, 
their  murderous  hate  had  been  denounced,  and  the  nets 
of  their  cunning  had  been  rent  like  cobwebs ;  they  had 
seen  the  heart  of  one  of  their  own  order  kindled  into 
open  admiration,  and  they  henceforth  renounced  as 
hopeless  the  attempt  to  conquer  Jesus  in  debate.  No 
man  after  that  durst  ask  Him  any  questions. 

He  will  now  carry  the  war  into  their  own  country. 
It  will  be  for  them  to  answer  lesus. 


Mark xii.  35-40.]  DAVID'S  LORD,  341 


DA  VID'S  LORD, 

"  And  Jesus  answered  and  said,  as  He  taught  in  the  temple,  How  saj 
tlie  scribes  that  the  Christ  is  the  Son  of  David  ?  David  himself  said  in 
the  Holy  Spirit,— 

The  Lord  said  unto  my  Lord, 

Sit  Thou  on  my  right  hand. 

Till  I  make  Thine  enemies  the  footstool  of  Thy  feet. 

David  himself  cal'eth  Him  Lord  ;  and  v^^hence  is  He  His  son?  And 
the  common  people  heard  Him  gladly.  And  in  His  teaching  He  said, 
Beware  of  the  scribes,  which  desire  to  walk  in  long  robes,  and  to  have 
salutations  in  the  marketplaces,  and  chief  seats  in  the  synagogues,  and 
chief  places  at  feasts  :  they  which  devour  widows'  houses,  and  for  a 
pretence  make  long  prayers  ;  these  shall  receive  greater  condemnation. 
Mark  xii.  35-40  (R.V.). 

Jesus,  having  silenced  in  turn  His  official  interrogators 
and  the  Sadducees,  and  won  the  heart  of  His  honest 
questioner,  proceeded  to  submit  a  searching  problem  to 
His  assailants.  Whose  son  was  the  Messiah  ?  And 
w^hen  they  gave  Him  an  obvious  and  shallow  answer, 
He  covered  them  with  confusion  publicly.  The  event 
is  full  of  that  dramatic  interest  which  St.  Mark  is  so 
well  able  to  discern  and  reproduce.  How  is  it  then 
that  he  passes  over  all  this  aspect  of  it,  leaves  us 
ignorant  of  the  defeat  and  even  of  the  presence  of  the 
scribes,  and  free  to  suppose  that  Jesus  stated  the  whole 
problem  in  one  long  question,  possibly  without  an 
opponent  at  hand  to  feel  its  force  ? 

This  is  a  remarkable  proof  that  his  concern  was  not 
really  for  the  pictorial  element  in  the  story,  but  for  the 
manifestation  of  the  power  of  his  Master,  the  "  authority  " 
which  resounds  through  his  opening  chapters,  the 
royalty  which  he  exhibits  at  the  close.  To  him  the 
vital  point  is  that  Jesus,  upon  openly  claiming  to  be  the 
Christ,  and  repelling  the  vehement  attacks  which  were 


34J  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MA^JtT, 

made  upon  Him  as  such,  proceeded  to  unfold  the 
astonishing  greatness  which  this  implied;  and  that 
after  asserting  the  unity  of  God  and  His  claim  upon  all 
hearts,  He  demonstrated  that  the  Christ  was  sharer  ol 
His  throne. 

The  Christ,  they  said,  was  the  Son  of  David,  and  this 
was  not  false :  Jesus  had  wrought  many  miracles  for 
suppliants  who  addressed  Him  by  that  title.  But 
was  it  all  the  truth  ?  How  then  did  David  call  Him 
Lord  ?  A  greater  than  David  might  spring  from 
among  his  descendants,  and  hold  rule  by  an  original 
and  not  merely  an  ancestral  claim :  He  might  not  reign 
as  a  son  of  David.  Yet  this  would  not  explain  the  fact 
that  David,  who  died  ages  before  His  coming,  was  in- 
spired to  call  Him  My  Lord.  Still  less  would  it  satisfy 
the  assertion  tlrat  God  had  bidden  Him  sit  beside  Him 
on  His  throne.  For  the  scribes  there  was  a  serious 
warning  in  the  promise  that  His  enemies  should  be 
made  His  footstool,  and  for  all  the  people  a  startling 
revelation  in  the  words  which  follow,  and  which  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  has  unfolded,  making  this  Son 
of  David  a  priest  for  ever,  after  another  order  than  that 
of  Aaron. 

No  wonder  that  the  multitude  heard  with  gladness 
teaching  at  once  so  original,  so  profound,  and  so  clearly 
justified  by  Scripture. 

But  it  must  be  observed  how  remarkably  this  ques- 
tion of  Jesus  follows  up  His  conversation  with  the 
scribe.  Then  He  had  based  the  supreme  duty  of  love 
to  God  upon  the  supreme  doctrine  of  the  Divine  Unity. 
He  now  proceeds  to  show  that  the  throne  of  Deity 
is  not  a  lonely  throne,  and  to  demand.  Whose  Son  is 
He  Who  shares  it,  and  Whom  David  in  Spirit  accosts 
by  the  same  title  as  his  God  ? 


Mark  xii.  41-44.]         THE    WIDOW'S  MITE.  343 

St.  Mark  is  now  content  to  give  the  merest  indica- 
tion of  the  final  denunciation  with  which  the  Lord 
turned  His  back  upon  the  scribes  of  Jerusalem,  as  He 
previously  broke  with  those  of  Galilee.  But  it  is 
enough  to  show  how  utterly  beyond  compromise  was 
the  rupture.  The  people  were  to  beware  of  them  : 
their  selfish  objects  were  betrayed  in  their  very  dress, 
and  their  desire  for  respectful  salutations  and  seats  of 
honour.  Their  prayers  were  a  pretence,  and  they 
devoured  widows'  houses,  acquiring  under  the  cloke  of 
religion  what  should  have  maintained  the  friendless. 
But  their  affected  piety  would  only  bring  upon  them 
a  darker  doom. 

It  is  a  tremendous  impeachment.  None  is  entitled 
to  speak  as  Jesus  did,  who  is  unable  to  read  hearts  as 
He  did.  And  yet  we  may  learn  from  it  that  mere  soft- 
ness is  not  the  meekness  He  demands,  and  that,  when 
sinister  motives  are  beyond  doubt,  the  spirit  of  Jesus 
is  the  spirit  of  burning. 

There  is  an  indulgence  for  the  wrongdoer  which  is 
mere  feebleness  and  half  compliance,  and  which  shares 
in  the  guilt  of  Eli.  And  there  is  a  dreadful  anger 
which  sins  not,  the  wrath  of  the  Lamb. 

THE    WIDOW'S  MITE, 

"And  He  sat  down  over  against  the  treasury,  and  beheld  how  the 
multitude  cast  money  into  the  treasury  :  and  many  that  were  rich  cast 
in  much.  And  there  came  a  poor  widow,  and  she  cast  in  two  mites, 
which  make  a  farthing.  And  He  called  unto  Him  His  disciples,  and 
said  unto  them,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  This  poor  widow  cast  in  more 
than  all  they  which  are  casting  into  the  treasury ;  for  they  all  did  cast 
in  of  their  superfluity ;  but  she  of  her  want  did  cast  in  all  that  she  had, 
iven  all  her  living." — Mark  xii.  41-44  (R.V.). 

With  words  of  stern  denunciation  Jesus  for  ever  left 
the  temple.     Yet  He  lingered,  as  if  reluctant,  in  the 


344  GOSPEL   OP  ST.  MARK, 


outer  court ;  and  while  the  storm  of  His  wrath  was 
still  resounding  in  all  hearts,  observed  and  pointed  out 
an  action  of  the  lowliest  beauty,  a  modest  flower  o. 
Hebrew  piety  in  the  vast  desert  of  formality.  It  was 
not  too  modest,  however,  to  catch,  even  in  that  agitating 
hour,  the  eye  of  Jesus  ;  and  while  the  scribes  were 
devouring  widows'  houses,  a  poor  widow  could  still, 
with  two  mites  which  make  a  farthing,  win  honourable 
mention  from  the  Son  of  God.  Thus  He  ever  observes 
realities  among  pretences,  the  pure  flame  of  love  amid 
the  sour  smoke  which  wreathes  around  it.  What  He 
saw  was  the  last  pittance,  cast  to  a  service  which  in 
reality  was  no  longer  God's,  yet  given  with  a  noble 
earnestness,  a  sacrifice  pure  from  the  heart. 

1,  His  praise  suggests  to  us  the  unknown  observa- 
tion, the  unsuspected  influences  which  surround  us. 
She  little  guessed  herself  to  be  the  one  figure,  amid  a 
glittering  group  and  where  many  were  rich,  who  really 
interested  the  all-seeing  Eye.  She  went  away  again, 
quite  unconscious  that  the  Lord  had  converted  her  two 
mites  into  a  perennial  wealth  of  contentment  for  lowly 
hearts,  and  instruction  for  the  Church,  quite  ignorant 
that  she  was  approved  of  Messiah,  and  that  her  little 
gift  was  the  greatest  event  of  all  her  story.  So  are  we 
watched  and  judged  in  our  least  conscious  and  our 
most  secluded  hours. 

2.  We  learn  St.  Paul's  lesson,  that,  "  if  the  readiness 
is  there,  it  is  acceptable  according  as  a  man  hath,  and 
not  according  as  he  hath  not." 

In  war,  in  commerce,  in  the  senate,  how  often  does 
an  accident  at  the  outset  blight  a  career  for  ever.  One 
is  taken  in  the  net  of  circumstances,  and  his  clipped 
wings  can  never  soar  again.  But  there  is  no  such 
disabling   accident  in  religion.     God  seeth  the  heart. 


liftrkxU.  41-44.]        THE    WIDOW'S  MITE.  |4| 


The  world  was  redeemed  by  the  blighted  and  thwarted 
career  of  One  Who  would  fain  have  gathered  His  own 
city  under  His  wing,  but  was  refused  and  frustrated. 
And  whether  we  cast  in  much,  or  only  possess  two 
mites,  an  offering  for  the  rich  to  mock,  He  marks, 
understands,  and  estimates  aright. 

And  while  the  world  only  sees  the  quantity,  He 
weighs  the  motive  of  our  actions.  This  is  the  true 
reason  why  we  can  judge  nothing  before  the  time,  why 
the  great  benefactor  is  not  really  pointed  out  by  the 
splendid  benefaction,  and  why  many  that  are  last  shall 
yet  be  first,  and  the  first  last. 

3.  The  poor  widow  gave  not  a  greater  proportion  of 
her  goods,  she  gave  all ;  and  it  has  been  often  re- 
marked that  she  had  still,  in  her  poverty,  the  oppor- 
tunity of  keeping  back  one  half.  But  her  heart  went 
with  her  two  mites.  And.  therefore,  she  was  blessed. 
We  may  picture  her  return  to  her  sordid  drudgery, 
unaware  of  the  meaning  of  the  new  light  and  peace 
which  followed  her,  and  why  her  heart  sang  for  joy. 
We  may  think  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  which  was  in  her, 
leading  her  afterwards  into  the  Church  of  Christ,  an 
obscure  and  perhaps  illiterate  convert,  undistinguished 
by  any  special  gift,  and  only  loved  as  the  first  Chris- 
tians all  loved  each  other.  And  we  may  think  of  her 
now,  where  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  are  made  known, 
followed  by  myriads  of  the  obscure  and  undistinguished 
whom  her  story  has  sustained  and  cheered,  and  by  some 
who  knew  her  upon  earth,  and  were  astonished  to 
learn  that  this  was  she.  Then  let  us  ask  ourselves,  Is 
there  any  such  secret  of  unobtrusive  lowly  service,  born 
of  love,  which  the  future  will  associate  with  me  ? 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THINGS  PERISHING  AND   THINGS  STABLE, 

**  And  as  He  went  forth  out  of  the  temple,  one  of  His  disciples  saith 
unto  Him,  Master,  behold,  what  manner  of  stones  and  what  manner  of 
buildings  1  And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Seest  thou  these  great  buildings  ? 
there  shall  not  be  left  here  one  stone  upon  another,  which  shall  not  be 
thrown  down.  And  as  He  sat  on  the  Mount  of  Olives  over  against  the 
temple,  Peter  and  James  and  John  and  Andrew  asked  Him  privately, 
Tell  us,  when  shall  these  things  be  ?  and  what  shai/  be  the  sign  when 
these  things  are  all  about  to  be  accomplished  ?  And  Jesus  began  to 
say  unto  them.  Take  heed  that  no  man  lead  you  astray.  Many  shall 
come  in  My  name,  saying,  I  am  He  ;  and  shall  lead  many  astray.  And 
when  ye  shall  hear  of  wars  and  rumours  of  wars,  be  not  troubled  :  these 
things  must  needs  come  to  pass  :  but  the  end  is  not  yet" — Mark  xiii. 
1-7  (R.V.). 

NOTHING  is  more  impressive  than  to  stand  before 
one  of  the  great  buildings  of  the  world,  and  mark 
how  the  toil  of  man  has  rivalled  the  stability  of  nature, 
and  his  thought  its  grandeur.  It  stands  up  like  a  crag, 
and  the  wind  whistles  through  its  pinnacles  as  in  a 
grove,  and  the  rooks  float  and  soar  about  its  towers 
as  they  do  among  the  granite  peaks.  Face  to  face 
with  one  of  these  mighty  structures,  man  feels  his  own 
pettiness,  shivering  in  the  wind,  or  seeking  a  shadow 
from  the  sun,  and  thinking  how  even  this  breeze  may 
blight  or  this  heat  fever  him,  and  how  at  the  longest 
he  shall  have  crumbled  into  dust  for  ages,  and  his 
name,  and  possibly  his  race,  have  perished,  while  this 


Markxiii.  I-;.]     THINGS  PERISHING  AND  STABLE.         347 

same  pile  shall  stretch  the  same  long  shadow  across 
the  plain. 

No  wonder  that  the  great  masters  of  nations  have 
all  delighted  in  building,  for  thus  they  saw  their  power, 
and  the  immortality  for  which  they  hoped,  made  solid, 
embodied  and  substantial,  and  it  almost  seemed  as  if 
they  had  blended  their  memory  with  the  enduring 
fabric  of  the  world. 

Such  a  building,  solid,  and  vast,  and  splendid,  white 
with  marble,  and  blazing  with  gold,  was  the  temple 
which  Jesus  now  forsook.  A  little  afterwards,  we  read 
that  its  Roman  conqueror,  whose  race  were  the  great 
builders  of  the  world,  in  spite  of  the  rules  of  war,  and 
the  certainty  that  the  Jews  would  nevei  remain  quietly 
in  subjection  while  it  stood,  "was  reluctant  to  burn 
down  so  vast  a  work  as  this,  since  this  would  be  a 
mischief  to  the  Romans  themselves,  as  it  would  be  an 
ornament  to  their  government  while  it  lasted." 

No  wonder,  then,  that  one  of  the  disciples,  who  had 
seen  Jesus  w^eep  for  its  approaching  ruin,  and  who  now 
followed  His  steps  as  He  left  it  desolate,  lingered,  and 
spoke  as  if  in  longing  and  appeal,  '*  Master,  see  what 
manner  of  stones,  and  what  manner  of  buildings." 

But  to  the  eyes  of  Jesus  all  was  evanescent  as  a 
bubble,  doomed  and  about  to  perish :  "  Seest  thou 
these  great  buildings,  there  shall  not  be  left  here  one 
stone  upon  another  that  shall  not  be  thrown  down." 

The  words  were  appropriate  to  His  solemn  mood, 
for  He  had  just  denounced  its  guilt  and  flung  its 
splendour  from  Him,  calling  it  no  longer  '*  My  house," 
nor  *'  My  Father's  house,"  but  saying,  "  Your  house 
is  left  unto  you  desolate."  Little  could  all  the  solid 
strength  of  the  very  foundations  of  the  world  itself 
avail  against  the  thunderbolt  of  God.      Moreover,  jfc 


348  GOSPEL  OF  ST,   MARK. 

was  a  time  when  He  felt  most  keenly  the  consecration, 
the  approaching  surrender  of  His  own  life.  In  such 
an  hour  no  splendours  distract  the  penetrating  vision ; 
all  the  world  is  brief  and  frail  and  hollow  to  the  man 
who  has  consciously  given  himself  to  God.  It  was  the 
fitting  moment  at  which  to  utter  such  a  prophecy. 

But,  as  He  sat  on  the  opposite  slope,  and  gazed  back 
upon  the  towers  that  were  to  fall,  His  three  favoured 
disciples  and  Andrew  came  to  ask  Him  privately  when 
should  these  things  be,  and  what  would  be  the  sign  of 
their  approach. 

It  is  the  common  assertion  of  all  unbelievers  that 
the  prophecy  which  followed  has  been  composed  since 
what  passes  for  its  fulfilment.  When  Jesus  was 
murdered,  and  a  terrible  fate  befel  the  guilty  city, 
what  more  natural  than  to  connect  the  two  events  ? 
And  how  easily  would  a  legend  spring  up  that  the 
sufferer  foretold  the  penalty  ?  But  there  is  an  obvious 
and  complete  reply.  The  prediction  is  too  mysterious, 
its  outlines  are  too  obscure  ;  and  the  ruin  of  Jerusalem 
is  too  inexplicably  complicated  with  the  final  visitation 
of  the  whole  earth,  to  be  the  issue  of  any  vindictive 
imagination  working  with  the  history  in  view. 

We  are  sometimes  tempted  to  complain  of  this 
obscurity.  But  in  truth  it  is  wholesome  and  designed. 
We  need  not  ask  whether  the  original  discourse  was 
thus  ambiguous,  or  they  are  right  who  suppose  that  a 
veil  has  since  been  drawn  between  us  and  a  portion  of 
the  answer  given  by  Jesus  to  His  disciples.  We  know 
as  much  as  it  is  meant  that  we  should  know.  And 
this  at  least  is  plain,  that  any  process  of  conscious  or 
unconscious  invention,  working  backwards  after  Jeru- 
salem fell,  would  have  given  us  far  more  explicit 
predictions   than   we   possess.      And,   moreover,   that 


Markxiii.  1-7.]     THINGS  PERISHING  AN')  STABLE,         349 

what  we  lose  in  gratification  of  our  curiosity,  \vc  gain 
in  personal  warning  to  walk  warily  and  vigilantly. 

Jesus  did  not  answer  the  question,  When  shall  these 
things  be?  But  He  declared,  to  men  who  wondered 
at  the  overthrow  of  their  splendid  temple,  that  all 
earthly  splendours  must  perish.  And  He  revealed  to 
them  where  true  permanence  may  be  discovered. 
These  are  two  of  the  central  thoughts  of  the  discourse, 
and  they  are  worthy  of  much  more  attention  from  its 
students  than  they  commonly  receive,  being  overlooked 
in  the  universal  eagerness  "to  know  the  times  and 
the  seasons."  They  come  to  the  surface  in  the  distinct 
words,  "  Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away,  but  My 
words  shall  not  pass  away." 

Now,  if  we  are  to  think  of  this  great  prophecy  as  a 
lurid  reflection  thrown  back  by  later  superstition  on 
the  storm-clouds  of  the  nation's  fall,  how  shall  we 
account  for  its  solemn  and  pensive  mood,  utterly  free 
from  vindictiveness,  entirely  suited  to  Jesus  as  we 
think  of  Him,  when  leaving  for  ever  the  dishonoured 
shrine,  and  moving  forward,  as  His  meditations  would 
surely  do,  beyond  the  occasion  which  evoked  them? 
Not  such  is  the  manner  of  resentful  controversialists, 
eagerly  tracing  imaginary  judgments.  They  are  narrow, 
and  sharp,  and  sour. 

I.  The  fall  of  Jerusalem  blended  itself,  in  the  thought 
of  Jesus,  with  the  catastrophe  which  awaits  all  that  ap- 
pears to  be  great  and  stable.  Nation  shall  rise  against 
nation,  and  kingdom  against  kingdom,  so  that,  although 
armies  set  their  bodies  in  the  gap  for  these,  and  heroes 
shed  their  blood  like  water,  yet  they  are  divided  among 
themselves  and  cannot  stand.  This  prediction,  we  must 
remember,  was  made  when  the  iron  yoke  of  Rome  im- 
posed quiet  upon  as  much  of  the  world  as  a  Galilean 


350  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

was  likely  to  take  into  account,  and,  therefore,  was  by 
no  means  so  easy  as  it  may  now  appear  to  us. 

Nature  itself  should  be  convulsed.  Earthquakes 
should  rend  the  earth,  blight  and  famine  should  disturb 
the  regular  course  of  seed-time  and  harvest.  And  these 
perturbations  should  be  the  working  out  of  a  stern  law, 
and  the  sure  token  of  sorer  woes  to  come,  the  begin- 
ning of  pangs  which  should  usher  in  another  dispensa- 
tion, the  birth-agony  of  a  new  time.  A  little  later,  and 
the  sun  should  be  darkened,  and  the  moon  should  with- 
draw her  light,  and  the  stars  should  "  be  falling  "  from 
heaven,  and  the  powers  that  are  in  the  heavens  should 
be  darkened.  Lastly,  the  course  of  history  should  close, 
and  the  affairs  of  earth  should  come  to  an  end,  when 
the  elect  should  be  gathered  together  to  the  glorified 
Son  of  Man. 

2.  It  was  in  sight  of  the  ruin  of  all  these  things  that 
He  dared  to  add.   My  word  shall  not  pass  away. 

Heresy  should  assail  it,  for  many  should  come  in  the 
name  of  Christ,  saying,  I  am  He,  and  should  lead  many 
astray.  Fierce  persecutions  should  try  His  followers, 
and  they  should  be  led  to  judgment  and  delivered  up. 
The  worse  afQictions  of  the  heart  would  wring  them, 
for  brother  should  deliver  up  brother  to  death,  and 
the  father  his  child,  and  children  should  rise  up  against 
parents  and  cause  them  to  be  put  to  death.  But  all 
should  be  too  little  to  quench  the  immortality  bestowed 
upon  His  elect.  In  their  sore  need,  the  Holy  Ghost 
should  speak  in  them :  when  they  were  caused  to  be 
put  to  death,  he  that  endureth  to  the  end,  the  same 
shall  be  saved. 

Now  these  words  were  treasured  up  as  the  utterances 
of  One  Who  had  just  foretold  His  own  approaching 
murder,  and  Who  died  accordingly  amid  circumstances 


Markxiii.  8-i6.]     THE  IMPENDING  JUDGMENT,  351 

full  of  horror  and  shame.  Yet  His  followers  rejoiced 
to  think  that  when  the  sun  grew  dark,  and  the  stars 
were  falling,  He  should  be  seen  in  the  clouds  coming 
with  great  glory. 

It  is  the  reversal  of  human  judgment :  the  announce- 
ment that  all  is  stable  which  appears  unsubstantial, 
and  all  which  appears  solid  is  about  to  melt  like  snow. 

And  yet  the  world  itself  has  since  grown  old  enough 
to  know  that  convictions  are  stronger  than  empires,  and 
truths  than  armed  hosts.  And  this  is  the  King  of 
Truth.  He  was  born  and  came  into  the  world  to  bear 
witness  to  the  truth,  and  every  one  that  is  of  the  truth 
heareth  His  voice.  He  is  the  Truth  become  vital,  the 
Word  which  was  with  God  in  the  beginning. 

THE  IMPENDING  JUDGMENT, 

"  For  nation  shall  rise  against  nation,  and  kingdom  against  king- 
dom ;  there  shall  be  earthquakes  in  divers  places ;  there  shall  be 
famines  :  these  things  are  the  beginning  of  travail.  But  take  ye  heed 
to  yourselves  :  for  they  shall  deliver  you  up  to  councils ;  and  in 
synagogues  shall  ye  be  beaten  ;  and  before  governors  and  kings  shall  ye 
stand  for  My  sake,  for  a  testimony  unto  them.  And  the  gospel  must 
first  be  preached  unto  all  the  nations.  And  when  they  lead  you  to 
judgment^  and  deliver  you  up,  be  not  anxious  beforehand  v^'hat  ye  shall 
speak  :  but  w^hatsoever  shall  be  given  you  in  that  hour,  that  speak  ye  : 
for  it  is  not  ye  that  speak,  but  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  brother  shall 
deliver  up  brother  to  death,  and  the  father  his  child  ;  and  children 
shall  rise  up  against  parents,  and  cause  them  to  be  put  to  death.  And 
ye  shall  be  hated  of  all  men  for  My  name's  sake ;  but  he  that  endureth 
to  the  end,  the  same  shall  be  saved.  Bui  vi^hen  ye  see  the  abomination 
of  desolation  standing  where  he  ought  not  (let  him  that  readeth  under- 
stand), then  let  them  that  are  in  Judaea  flee  unto  the  mountains  :  and 
let  him  that  is  on  the  housetop  not  go  down,  nor  enter  in,  to  take 
anything  out  of  his  house :  and  let  him  that  is  in  the  field  not  return 
back  to  take  his  cloke."— Mark  xiii.  8-16  (R.V.). 

When    we  perceive    that   one  central  thought  in    our 
Lord's  discourse  about  the  last  things  is  the  contrast 


35*  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

between  material  things  which  are  fleeting,  and  spiritual 
realities  which  abide,  a  question  naturally  arises,  which 
ought  not  to  be  overlooked.  Was  the  prediction  itself 
anything  more  than  a  result  of  profound  spiritual 
insight  ?  Are  we  certain  that  prophecy  in  general  was 
More  than  keenness  of  vision  ?  There  are  flourishing 
empires  now  which  perhaps  a  keen  politician,  and  cer- 
tainly a  firm  believer  in  retributive  justice  governing 
the  world,  must  consider  to  be  doomed.  And  one  who 
felt  the  transitory  nature  of  earthly  resources  might 
expect  a  time  when  the  docks  of  London  will  resemble 
the  lagoons  of  Venice,  and  the  State  which  now  pre- 
dominates in  Europe  shall  become  partaker  of  the 
decrepitude  Spain.  But  no  such  presage  is  a  prophecy 
in  the  Christian  sense.  Even  when  suggested  by  reh- 
gion,  it  does  not  claim  any  greater  certainty  than  that 
of  sagacious  inference. 

The  general  question  is  best  met  by  pointing  to  such 
specific  and  detailed  prophecies,  especially  concerning 
the  Messiah,  as  the  twenty-second  Psalm,  the  fifty-third 
of  Isaiah,  and  the  ninth  of  Daniel. 

But  the  prediction  of  the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  while  we 
have  seen  that  it  has  none  of  the  minuteness  and 
sharpness  of  an  after-thought,  is  also  too  definite  for  a 
presentiment.  The  abomination  which  defiled  the  Holy 
Place,  and  yet  left  one  lai^t  brief  opportunity  for  hasty 
flight,  the  persecutions  by  which  that  catastrophe 
would  be  heralded,  and  the  precipitating  of  the  crisis  for 
the  elect's  sake,  were  details  not  to  be  conjectured.  So 
was  the  coming  of  the  great  retribution,  the  beginning 
of  His  kingdom  within  that  generation,  a  limit  which 
was  foretold  at  least  twice  besides  (Mark  ix.  I  and  xiv. 
62),  with  which  the  "  henceforth  "  in  Matthew  xxvi.  64 
must  be  compared.     And  so  was  another  circumstance 


MarkxiU.  8-i6.]     THE  IMPENDING  JUDGMENT,  353 

which  is  not  enough  considered :  the  fact  that  between 
the  fall  of  Jerusalem  and  the  Second  Coming,  however 
long  or  short  the  interval,  no  second  event  of  a  similar 
character,  so  universal  in  its  effect  upon  Christianity, 
so  epoch-making,  should  intervene.  The  coming  of 
the  Son  of  man  should  be  "in  those  days  after  that 
tribulation." 

The  intervening  centuries  lay  out  like  a  plain  country 
between  two  mountain  tops,  and  did  not  break  the  vista, 
as  the  eye  passed  from  the  judgment  of  the  ancient 
Church,  straight  on  to  the  judgment  of  the  world. 
Shall  we  say  then  that  Jesus  foretold  that  His  coming 
would  follow  speedily  ?  and  that  He  erred  ?  Men  have 
been  very  willing  to  bring  this  charge,  even  in  the  face 
of  His  explicit  assertions.  "  After  a  long  time  the 
Lord  of  that  servant  cometh.  .  .  While  the  bridegroom 
tarried  they  all  slumbered  and  slept.  ...  If  that  wicked 
servant  shall  say  in  his  heart,  My  Lord  delayeth  His 
coming." 

It  is  true  that  these  expressions  are  not  found  in 
St.  Mark.  But  instead  of  them  stands  a  sentence  so 
startling,  so  unique,  that  it  has  caused  to  ill-instructed 
orthodoxy  great  searchings  of  heart.  At  least,  how- 
ever, the  flippant  pretence  that  Jesus  fixed  an  early 
date  for  His  return,  ought  to  be  silenced  when  we  read, 
"  Of  that  day  or  that  hour  knoweth  no  one,  not  even 
the  angels  of  heaven,  nor  the  Son,  but  the  Father." 

These  words  are  not  more  surprising  than  that  He 
increased  in  wisdom  ;  and  marvelled  at  the  faith  of  some, 
and  the  unbelief  of  others  (Luke  ii.  52  ;  Matt.  viii.  10; 
Mark  vi.  6).  They  are  involved  in  the  great  assertion, 
that  He  not  only  took  the  form  of  a  servant,  but  emptied 
Himself  (Phil.  ii.  7).  But  they  decide  the  question 
of  the  genuineness  of  the  discourse ;  for  when  could 


354  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

they  have  been  invented  ?  And  they  are  to  be  taken 
in  connection  with  others,  which  speak  of  Him  not 
in  His  low  estate,  but  as  by  nature  and  inherently, 
the  Word  and  the  Wisdom  of  God  ;  aware  of  all  that 
the  Father  doeth ;  and  Him  in  Whom  dwelleth  all  the 
fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily  (John  i.  I ;  Luke  xi.  49  ; 
John  V.  20 ;  Col.  ii.  9). 

But  these  were  "the  days  of  His  flesh;"  and  that 
expression  is  not  meant  to  convey  that  He  has  since 
laid  aside  His  body,  for  He  says,  ''A  spirit  hath 
not  flesh  .  .  ,  as  ye  see  Me  have "  (Heb.  v.  7 ; 
Luke  xxiv.  39).  It  must  therefore  express  the  limita- 
tions, now  removed,  by  which  He  once  condescended  to 
be  trammelled.  What  forbids  us,  then,  to  believe  that 
His  knowledge,  like  His  power,  was  limited  by  a  low- 
liness not  enforced,  but  for  our  sakes  chosen  ;  and  that 
as  He  could  have  asked  for  twelve  legions  of  angels, 
yet  chose  to  be  bound  and  buffeted,  so  He  could  have 
known  that  day  and  hour,  yet  submitted  to  ignorance, 
that  He  might  be  made  like  in  all  points  to  His 
brethren  ?  Souls  there  are  for  whom  this  wonderful 
saying,  "the  Son  knoweth  not,"  is  even  more  affecting 
than  the  words,  "  The  Son  of  man  hath  not  where  to 
lay  His  head." 

But  now  the  climax  must  be  observed  which  made 
His  ignorance  more  astonishing  than  that  of  the  angels 
in  heaven.  The  recent  discourse  must  be  remembered, 
which  had  asked  His  enemies  to  explain  the  fact  that 
David  called  Him  Lord,  and  spoke  of  God  as  occupying 
no  lonely  throne.  And  we  must  observe  His  emphatic 
expression,  that  His  return  shall  be  that  of  the  Lord 
of  the  House  (ver.  35),  so  unlike  the  temper  which  He 
impressed  on  every  servant,  and  clearly  teaching  the 
Epistle    to  the   Hebrews   to  speak  of  His  fidelity  at 


Markxiii.  8-i6.]     THE  IMPENDING  JUDGMENT,  355 

that  of  a  Son  over  His  house,  and  to  contrast  it  sharply 
with  that  of  the  most  honourable  servant  (iii.  6). 

It  is  plain,  however,  that  Jesus  did  not  fix,  and  re- 
nounced the  povi^er  to  fix,  a  speedy  date  for  His  second 
coming.  He  checked  the  impatience  of  the  early 
Church  by  insisting  that  none  knew  the  time. 

But  He  drew  the  closest  analogy  between  that  event 
and  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  required  a  like 
spirit  in  those  who  looked  for  each. 

Persecution  should  go  before  them.  Signs  would 
indicate  their  approach  as  surely  as  the  budding  of  the 
fig  tree  told  of  summer.  And  in  each  case  the  disciples 
of  Jesus  must  be  ready.  When  the  siege  came,  they 
should  not  turn  back  from  the  field  into  the  city,  nor 
escape  from  the  housetop  by  the  inner  staircase. 
When  the  Son  of  man  comes,  their  loins  should  be 
girt,  and  their  lights  already  burning.  But  if  the  end 
has  been  so  long  delayed,  and  if  there  were  signs  by 
which  its  approach  might  be  known,  how  could  it  be 
the  practical  duty  of  all  men,  in  all  the  ages,  to  expect 
it  ?  What  is  the  meaning  of  bidding  us  to  learn  from 
the  fig  tree  her  parable,  which  is  the  approach  of 
summer  when  her  branch  becomes  tender,  and  yet 
asserting  that  we  know  not  when  the  time  is,  that  it 
shall  come  upon  us  as  a  snare,  that  the  Master  will 
surely  surprise  us,  but  need  not  find  us  unprepared, 
because  all  the  Church  ought  to  be  always  ready  ? 

What  does  it  mean,  especially  when  we  observe, 
beneath  the  surface,  that  our  Lord  was  conscious  of 
addressing  more  than  that  generation,  since  He  declared 
to  the  first  hearers,  *'  What  I  say  unto  you  I  say  unto 
all.  Watch  ? "  It  is  a  strange  paradox.  But  yet  the 
history  of  the  Church  supplies  abundant  proof  that  in 
no  age  has  the  expectation  of  the  Second  Advent  dis- 


356  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

appeared,  and  the  faithful  have  always  been  mocked  by 
the  illusion,  or  else  keen  to  discern  the  fact,  that  He  is 
near,  even  at  the  doors.  It  is  not  enough  to  reflect 
that,  for  each  soul,  dissolution  has  been  the  preliminary 
advent  of  Him  who  has  promised  to  come  again  and 
receive  us  unto  Himself,  and  the  Angel  of  Death  is 
indeed  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant.  It  must  be  asserted 
that  for  the  universal  Church,  the  feet  of  the  Lord  have 
been  always  upon  the  threshold,  and  the  time  has  been 
prolonged  only  because  the  Judge  standeth  at  the  door. 
The  "  birth  pangs "  of  which  Jesus  spoke  have  never 
been  entirely  stilled.  And  the  march  of  time  has  not 
been  towards  a  far-off  eternity,  but  along  the  margin 
of  that  mysterious  ocean,  by  which  it  must  be  engulfed 
at  last,  and  into  which,  fragment  by  fragment,  the  beach 
it  treads  is  crumbling. 

Now  this  necessity,  almost  avowed,  for  giving  signs 
which  should  only  make  the  Church  aware  of  her  Lord's 
continual  nearness,  without  ever  enabling  her  to  assign 
the  date  of  His  actual  arrival,  is  the  probable  explana- 
tion of  what  has  been  already  remarked,  the  manner  in 
which  the  judgment  of  Jerusalem  is  made  to  symbolize 
the  final  judgment.  But  this  symbolism  makes  the 
warning  spoken  to  that  age  for  ever  fruitful.  As  they 
were  not  to  linger  in  the  guilty  city,  so  we  are  to  let 
no  earthly  interests  arrest  our  flight, — not  to  turn  back, 
but  promptly  and  resolutely  to  flee  unto  the  everlasting 
hills.  As  they  should  pray  that  their  flight  through  the 
mountains  should  not  be  in  the  winter,  so  should  we 
beware  of  needing  to  seek  salvation  in  the  winter  of 
the  soul,  when  the  storms  of  passion  and  appetite  are 
wildest,  when  evil  habits  have  made  the  road  slippery 
under  foot,  and  sophistry  and  selfwill  have  hidden  the 
gulfs  in  a  treacherous  wreath  of  snow. 


Mark  xiii.  8-i6.]     THE  IMPENDING  JUDGMENT,  357 

Heedfulness,  a  sense  of  surrounding  peril  and  of 
the  danger  of  the  times,  is  meant  to  inspire  us  while 
we  read.  The  discourse  opens  with  a  caution  against 
heresy  :  "  Take  heed  that  no  man  deceive  you."  It  goes 
on  to  caution  them  against  the  weakness  of  their  own 
flesh  **  Take  heed  to  yourselves,  for  they  shall  deliver 
you  up."  It  bids  them  watch,  because  they  know  not 
when  the  time  is.  And  the  way  to  watchfulness  is 
prayerfulness ;  so  that  presently,  in  the  Garden,  when 
they  could  not  watch  with  Him  one  hour,  they  were 
bidden  to  watch  and  pray,  that  they  enter  not  into 
temptation. 

So  is  the  expectant  Church  to  watch  and  pray.  Nor 
must  her  mood  be  one  of  passive  idle  expectation, 
dreamful  desire  of  the  promised  change,  neglect  of 
duties  in  the  interval.  The  progress  of  all  art  and 
science,  and  even  the  culture  of  the  ground,  is  said  to 
have  been  arrested  by  the  universal  persuasion  that  the 
year  One  Thousand  should  see  the  return  of  Christ. 
The  luxury  of  millennarian  expectation  seems  even 
now  to  relieve  6ome  consciences  from  the  active  duties 
of  religion.  But  Jesus  taught  His  followers  that  on 
leaving  His  house,  to  sojourn  in  a  far  country.  He 
regarded  them  as  His  servants  still,  and  gave  them 
every  one  his  work.  And  it  is  the  companion  of  that 
disciple  to  whom  Jesus  gave  the  keys,  and  to  whom 
especially  He  said,  "What,  couldest  thou  not  watch 
with  Me  one  hour  ?  '*  St.  Mark  it  is  who  specifies  the 
command  to  the  porter  that  he  should  watch.  To  watch 
is  not  to  gaze  from  the  roof  across  the  distant  roads. 
It  is  to  have  girded  loins  and  a  kindled  lamp;  it  is 
not  measured  by  excited  expectation,  but  by  readiness. 
Does  it  seem  to  us  that  the  world  is  no  longer  hostile, 
because  persecution  and  torture  are  at  an  end  ?     That 


358  GOSPEL  OF  ST.   MARK, 

the  need  is  over  for  a  clear  distinction  between  her 
and  us  ?  This  very  belief  may  prove  that  we  are 
falling  asleep.  Never  was  there  an  age  to  which  Jesus 
did  not  say  Watch.  Never  one  in  which  His  return 
would  be  other  than  a  snare  to  all  whose  life  is  on  the 
level  of  the  world. 

Now  looking  back  over  the  whole  discourse,  we 
come  to  ask  ourselves,  What  is  the  spirit  which  it 
sought  to  breathe  into  His  Church  ?  Clearly  it  is  that 
of  loyal  expectation  of  the  Absent  One.  There  is  in 
it  no  hint,  that  because  we  cannot  fail  to  be  deceived 
without  Him,  therefore  His  infallibility  and  His  Vicar 
shall  for  ever  be  left  on  earth.  His  place  is  empty 
until  He  returns.  Whoever  says,  Lo,  here  is  Christ, 
is  a  deceiver,  and  it  proves  nothing  that  he  shall  de- 
ceive many.  When  Christ  is  manifested  again,  it 
shall  be  as  the  blaze  of  lightning  across  the  sky. 
There  is  perhaps  no  text  in  this  discourse  which  directly 
assails  the  Papacy ;  but  the  atmosphere  which  pervades 
it  is  deadly  alike  to  her  claims,  and  to  the  instincU  and 
desires  on  which  those  claims  rely. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    CRUSE    OF  OINTMENT, 

"Now  after  two  days  was  the  feast  of  the  passover  and  the  un- 
leavened bread :  and  the  chief  priests  and  the  scribes  sought  liow  they 
might  take  Him  with  subtilty,  and  kill  Him :  for  they  said,  Not 
during  the  feast,  lest  haply  there  shall  be  a  tumult  of  the  people.  And 
while  He  was  in  Bethany  in  the  house  of  Simon  the  leper,  as  He  sat  at 
meat,  there  came  a  woman  having  an  alabaster  cruse  of  ointment  of 
spikenard  very  costly ;  and  she  brake  the  cruse,  and  poured  it  over  His 
head.  But  there  were  some  that  had  indignation  among  themselves, 
sayings  To  what  purpose  hath  this  waste  of  the  ointment  been  made  ? 
For  this  ointment  might  have  been  sold  for  above  three  hundred  pence, 
and  given  to  the  poor.  And  they  murmured  against  her.  But  Jesus 
said,  Let  her  alone;  why  trouble  ye  her?  she  hath  wrought  a  good 
York  on  Me.  For  ye  have  the  poor  always  with  you,  and  whensoever 
ye  will  ye  can  do  them  good  :  but  Me  ye  have  not  always.  She  hath 
done  what  she  could  :  she  hath  anointed  My  body  aforehand  for  the 
burying.  And  verily  I  say  unto  you,  Wheresoever  the  gospel  shall  be 
preached  throughout  the  whole  world,  that  also  which  this  woman  hath 
done  shall  be  spoken  of  for  a  memorial  of  her." — MARK  xiv.  1-9 
(R.V.). 

PERFECTION  implies  not  only  the  absence  of 
blemishes,  but  the  presence,  in  equal  proportions, 
of  every  virtue  and  every  grace.  And  so  the  perfect 
life  is  full  of  the  most  striking,  and  yet  the  easiest 
transitions.  We  have  just  read  predictions  of  trial 
more  startling  and  intense  than  any  in  the  ancient 
Scripture.  If  we  knew  of  Jesus  only  by  the  various 
reports  of  that  discourse,  we  should  think  of  a  recluse 
like  Elijah  or  the  Baptist,  and  imagine  that  His  dis- 


36o  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

ciples,  with  girded  loins,  should  be  more  ascetic 
than  St.  Anthony.  We  are  next  shown  Jesus  at  a 
supper  gracefully  accepting  the  graceful  homage  of  a 
woman. 

From  St.  John  we  learn  that  this  feast  was  given  six 
days  before  the  passover.  The  other  accounts  post- 
poned the  mention  of  it,  plainly  because  of  an  incident 
which  occurred  then,  but  is  vitally  connected  with  a 
decision  arrived  at  somewhat  later  by  the  priests.  Two 
days  before  the  passover,  the  council  finally  determined 
that  Jesus  must  be  destroyed.  They  recognised  all  the 
dangers  of  that  course.  It  must  be  done  with  subtlety; 
the  people  must  not  be  aroused;  and  therefore  they 
said.  Not  on  the  feast-day.  It  is  remarkable,  however, 
that  at  the  very  time  when  they  so  determined,  Jesus 
clearly  and  calmly  made  to  His  disciples  exactly  the 
opposite  announcement,  "  After  two  days  the  passover 
Cometh,  and  the  Son  of  man  is  delivered  up  to  be 
crucified  "  (Matt.  xxvi.  2).  Thus  we  find  at  every  turn 
of  the  narrative  that  their  plans  are  over-ruled,  and 
they  are  unconscious  agents  of  a  mysterious  design, 
which  their  Victim  comprehends  and  accepts.  On  one 
side,  perplexity  snatches  at  all  base  expedients;  the 
traitor  is  welcomed,  false  witnesses  are  sought  after, 
and  the  guards  of  the  sepulchre  bribed.  On  the  other 
side  is  clear  foresight,  the  deliberate  unmasking  of 
Judas,  and  at  the  trial  a  circumspect  composure^  a  lofty 
silence,  and  speech  more  majestic  still. 

Meanwhile  there  is  a  heart  no  longer  light  (for  He 
foresees  His  burial),  yet  not  so  burdened  that  He  should 
decline  the  entertainment  offered  Him  at  Bethany. 

This  was  in  the  house  of  Simon  the  leper,  but  St. 
John  tells  us  that  Martha  served,  Lazarus  sat  at  meat, 
and  the  woman  who  anointed  Jesus  was  Mary.     We 


Mark  xiv.  1-9.]     THE   CRUSE   OF  OINTMENT,  361 

naturally  infer  some  relationship  between  Simon  and 
this  favoured  family  ;  but  the  nature  of  the  tie  we  know 
not,  and  no  purpose  can  be  served  by  guessing.  Better 
far  to  let  the  mind  rest  upon  the  sweet  picture  of  Jesus, 
at  home  among  those  who  loved  Him ;  upon  the  eager 
service  of  Martha ;  upon  the  man  who  had  known  death, 
somewhat  silent,  one  fancies,  a  remarkable  sight  for  Jesus, 
as  He  sat  at  meat,  and  perhaps  suggestive  of  the  thought 
which  found  utterance  a  few  days  afterwards,  that  a 
banquet  was  yet  to  come,  when  He  also,  risen  from  the 
grave,  should  drink  new  wine  among  His  friends  in  the 
kingdom  of  God.  And  there  the  adoring  face  of  her 
who  had  chosen  the  better  part  was  turned  to  her  Lord 
with  a  love  which  comprehended  His  sorrow  and  His 
danger,  while  even  the  Twelve  were  blind — an  insight 
which  knew  the  awful  presence  of  One  upon  his  way 
to  the  sepulchre,  as  well  as  one  who  had  returned 
thence.  Therefore  she  produced  a  cruse  of  very 
precious  ointment,  which  had  been  "kept"  for  Him, 
perhaps  since  her  brother  was  embalmed.  And  as  such 
alabaster  flasks  were  commonly  sealed  in  making,  and 
only  to  be  opened  by  breaking  off  the  neck,  she 
crushed  the  cruse  between  her  hands  and  poured  it  on 
His  head.  On  His  feet  also,  according  to  St.  John, 
who  is  chiefly  thinking  of  the  embalming  of  the  body, 
as  the  others  of  the  anointing  of  the  head.  The  dis- 
covery of  contradiction  here  is  worthy  of  the  abject 
"  criticism "  which  detects  in  this  account  a  variation 
upon  the  story  of  her  who  was  a  sinner.  As  if  two 
women  who  loved  much  might  not  both  express  their 
loyalty,  which  could  not  speak,  by  so  fair  and  feminine  a 
device;  or  as  if  it  were  inconceivable  that  the  blameless 
Mary  should  consciously  imitate  the  gentle  penitent. 
But   even  as  t'lis   unworthy  controversy  breaks  in 


36«  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

upon  the  tender  story,  so  did  indignation  and  murmur- 
ing spoil  that  peaceful  scene.  "Why  was  not  this 
ointment  sold  for  much,  and  given  to  the  poor  ?  "  It 
was  not  common  that  others  should  be  more  thoughtful 
of  the  poor  than  Jesus. 

He  fed  the  multitudes  they  would  have  sent  away ; 
He  gave  sight  to  Bartimaeus  whom  they  rebuked.  But 
it  is  still  true,  that  whenever  generous  impulses  express 
themselves  with  lavish  hands,  some  heartless  calculator 
reckons  up  the  value  of  what  is  spent,  and  especially  its 
value  to  '*  the  poor;"  the  poor,  who  would  be  worse  ofi( 
if  the  instincts  of  love  were  arrested  and  the  human 
heart  frozen.  Almshouses  are  not  usually  built  by  those 
who  declaim  against  church  architecture ;  nor  is  utilita- 
rianism famous  for  its  charities.  And  so  we  are  not 
surprised  when  St.  John  tells  us  how  the  quarrel  was 
fomented.  Iscariot,  the  dishonest  pursebearer,  was  ex- 
asperated at  the  loss  of  a  chance  of  theft,  perhaps  of 
absconding  without  being  so  great  a  loser  at  the  end  of 
his  three  unrequited  years.  True  that  the  chance  was 
gone,  and  speech  would  only  betray  his  estrangement 
from  Jesus,  upon  Whom  so  much  good  property  was 
wasted.  But  evil  tempers  must  express  themselves  at 
times,  and  Judas  had  craft  enough  to  involve  the  rest 
in  his  misconduct.  It  is  the  only  indication  in  the 
Gospels  of  intrigue  among  the  Twelve  which  even 
indirectly  struck  at  their  Master's  honour. 

Thus,  while  the  fragrance  of  the  ointment  filled  the 
house,  their  parsimony  grudged  the  homage  which 
soothed  His  heart,  and  condemned  the  spontaneous 
impulse  of  Mary's  love. 

It  was  for  her  that  Jesus  interfered,  and  His  words 
went  home. 

The   poor  were   always   with  them :    opportunities 


Markxiv  1-9.]     THE   CRUSE   OF  OINTMENT,  363 


would  never  fail  those  who  were  so  zealous  ;  and  when- 
soever they  would  they  could  do  them  good, — when- 
soever Judas,  for  example,  would.  As  for  her,  she  had 
wrought  a  good  work  (a  high-minded  and  lofty  work  is 
implied  rather  than  a  useful  one)  upon  Him,  Whom  they 
should  not  always  have.  Soon  His  body  would  be  in 
the  hands  of  sinners,  desecrated,  outraged.  And  she 
only  had  comprehended,  however  dimly,  the  silent 
sorrow  of  her  Master ;  she  only  had  laid  to  heart  His 
warnings ;  and,  unable  to  save  Him,  or  even  to  watch 
with  Him  one  hour,  she  (and  through  all  that  week 
none  other)  had  done  what  she  could.  She  had 
anointed  His  body  beforehand  for  the  burial,  and  in- 
deed with  clear  intention  "  to  prepare  Him  for  burial " 
(Matt.  xxvi.  12). 

It  was  for  this  that  His  followers  had  chidden  her. 
Alas,  how  often  do  our  shrewd  calculations  and  harsh 
judgments  miss  the  very  essence  of  some  problem  which 
only  the  heart  can  solve,  the  silent  intention  of  some 
deed  which  is  too  fine,  too  sensitive,  to  explain  itself 
except  only  to  that  sympathy  which  understands  us  all. 
Men  thought  of  Jesus  as  lacking  nothing,  and  would 
fain  divert  His  honour  to  the  poor;  but  this  woman 
comprehended  the  lonely  heart,  and  saw  the  last 
inexorable  need  before  Him.  Love  read  the  secret  in 
the  eyes  of  love,  and  this  which  Mary  did  shall  be  told 
while  the  world  stands,  as  being  among  the  few  human 
actioiis  which  refreshed  the  lonely  One,  the  purest,  the 
most  graceful,  and  perhaps  the  last. 


364  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 


THE   TRAITOR, 

"  And  Judas  Iscariot,  he  that  was  one  of  the  twelve,  went  away  nnt« 
the  chief  priests,  that  he  might  deliver  Him  unto  them.  And  they, 
when  they  heard  it,  were  glad,  and  promised  to  give  him  money.  And 
he  sought  how  he  might  conveniently  deliver  Him  unto  them.  And  on 
the  first  day  of  unleavened  bread,  when  they  sacrificed  the  passover,  Hi« 
disciples  say  unto  Him,  Where  wilt  Thou  that  we  go  and  make  ready 
that  Thou  mayest  eat  the  passover?  And  He  sendeth  two  of  His 
disciples,  and  saith  unto  them,  Go  into  the  city,  and  there  shall  meet 
you  a  man  bearing  a  pitcher  of  water  :  follow  him ;  and  wheresoever 
he  shall  enter  in,  say  to  the  goodman  of  the  house,  the  Master  saith, 
Where  is  My  guest-chamber,  where  I  shall  eat  the  passover  with  My 
disciples  ?  And  he  will  himself  shew  you  a  large  upper  room  furnished 
and  ready  :  and  there  make  ready  for  us.  And  the  disciples  went 
forth,  and  came  into  the  city,  and  found  as  He  had  said  unto  them  t 
and  they  made  ready  the  passover." — MARK  xiv.  10-16  (R.V.). 

It  was  when  Jesus  rebuked  the  Twelve  for  censuring 
Mary,  that  the  patience  of  Judas,  chafing  in  a  service 
which  had  grown  hateful,  finally  gave  way.  He 
offered  a  treacherous  and  odious  help  to  the  chiefs  of 
his  religion,  and  these  pious  men,  too  scrupulous  to 
cast  blood-money  into  the  treasury  or  to  defile  them- 
selves by  entering  a  pagan  judgment  hall,  shuddered 
not  at  the  contact  of  such  infamy,  warned  him  not  that 
perfidy  will  pollute  the  holiest  cause,  cared  as  little 
then  for  his  ruin  as  when  they  asked  what  to  them 
was  his  remorseful  agony ;  but  were  glad,  and  prom- 
ised to  give  him  money.  By  so  doing,  they  became 
accomplices  in  the  only  crime  by  which  it  is  quite 
certain  that  a  soul  was  lost.  The  supreme  "  offence  " 
was  planned  and  perpetrated  by  no  desperate  criminal. 
It  was  the  work  of  an  apostle,  and  his  accomplices 
were  the  heads  of  a  divinely  given  rehgion.  What  an 
awful  example  of  the  deadening  power,  palsying  the 


Mark  xiv.  10-16.]  THE   TRAITOR.  365 

conscience,  petrifying  the  heart,  of  religious  observances 
devoid  of  real  trust  and  love. 

The  narrative,  as  we  saw,  somewhat  displaced  the 
story  of  Simon's  feast,  to  connect  this  incident  more 
closely  with  the  betrayal.  And  it  now  proceeds  at 
once  to  the  passover,  and  the  final  crisis.  In  so  doing, 
it  pauses  at  a  curious  example  of  circumspection, 
intimately  linked  also  with  the  treason  of  Judas.  The 
disciples,  unconscious  of  treachery,  asked  where  they 
should  prepare  the  paschal  supper.  And  Jesus  gave 
them  a  sign  by  which  to  recognise  one  who  had  a  large 
upper  room  prepared  for  that  purpose,  to  which  he 
would  make  them  welcome.  It  is  not  quite  impossible 
that  the  pitcher  of  water  was  a  signal  preconcerted 
with  some  disciple  in  Jerusalem,  although  secret  under- 
standings are  not  found  elsewhere  in  the  Hfe  of  Jesus. 
What  concerns  us  to  observe  is  that  the  owner  of  the 
house  which  the  bearer  entered  was  a  believer.  To 
him  Jesus  is  "  the  Master/'  and  can  say  "  Where  is  My 
guest-chamber  ?  " 

So  obscure  a  disciple  was  he,  that  Peter  and  John 
required  a  sign  to  guide  them  to  his  house.  Yet  his 
upper  room  would  now  receive  such  a  consecration  as 
the  Temple  never  knew.  With  strange  feelings  would 
he  henceforth  enter  the  scene  of  the  last  supper  of  his 
Lord.  But  now,  what  if  he  had  only  admitted  Jesus 
with  hesitation  and  after  long  delay?  We  should 
wonder ;  yet  there  are  lowlier  doors  at  which  the  same 
Jesus  stands  and  knocks,  and  would  fain  come  in  and 
sup.  And  cold  is  His  welcome  to  many  a  chamber 
which  is  neither  furnished  nor  made  ready. 

The  mysterious  and  reticent  indication  of  the  place 
u  easily  understood.  Jesus  would  not  enable  His 
enemies  to  lay  hands  upon  Him  before  the  time.     His 


366  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK. 

nights  had  hitherto  been  spent  at  Bethany ;  now  first 
it  was  possible  to  arrest  Him  in  the  darkness,  and 
hurry  on  the  trial  before  the  Galileans  at  the  feast, 
strangers  and  comparatively  isolated,  could  learn  the 
danger  of  their  "  prophet  of  Galilee."  It  was  only  too 
certain  that  when  the  blow  was  struck,  the  light  and 
fickle  adhesion  of  the  populace  would  transfer  itself  to 
the  successful  party.  Meanwhile,  the  prudence  of 
Jesus  gave  Him  time  for  the  Last  Supper,  and  the 
wonderful  disccurse  recorded  by  St.  John,  and  the 
conflict  and  victory  in  the  Garden.  When  the  priests 
learned,  at  a  late  hour,  that  Jesus  might  yet  be  arrested 
before  morning,  but  that  Judas  could  never  watch  Him 
any  more,  the  necessity  for  prompt  action  came  with 
such  surprise  upon  them,  that  the  arrest  was  accom- 
plished while  they  still  had  to  seek  false  witnesses,  and 
to  consult  how  a  sentence  might  best  be  extorted  from 
the  Governor.  It  is  right  to  observe  at  every  point, 
the  mastery  of  Jesus,  the  perplexity  and  confusion  of 
His  foes. 

And  it  is  also  right  that  we  should  learn  to  include, 
among  the  woes  endured  for  us  by  the  Man  of  Sorrows, 
this  haunting  consciousness  that  a  base  vigilance  was 
to  be  watched  against,  that  He  breathed  the  air  of 
treachery  and  vileness. 

Here  then,  in  view  of  the  precautions  thus  forced 
upon  our  Lord,  we  pause  to  reflect  upon  the  awful  fall 
of  Judas,  the  degradation  of  an  apostle  into  a  hireling, 
a  traitor,  and  a  spy.  Men  have  failed  to  believe  that 
one  whom  Jesus  called  to  His  side  should  sink  so  low. 

They  h?ve  not  observed  how  inevitably  great  good- 
ness rejected  brings  out  special  turpitude,  and  dark 
shadows  go  with  powerful  Hghts;  how,  in  this  supreme 
tragedy,  all  the  motives,  passions,  moral  and  immoral 


Mark  >iv.  10-16.I  THE    TRAITOR.  367 

impulses  are  on  the  tragic  scale ;  what  gigantic  forms  of 
baseness,  hypocrisy,  cruelty,  and  injustice  stalk  across 
the  awful  platform,  and  how  the  forces  of  hell  strip 
themselves,  and  string  their  muscles  for  a  last  desperate 
wrestle  against  the  powers  of  heaven,  so  that  here  is 
the  very  place  to  expect  the  extreme  apostasy.  And  ' 
so  they  have  conjectured  that  Iscariot  was  only  half  a 
traitor.  Some  project  misled  him  of  forcing  his  Master 
to  turn  to  bay.  Then  the  powers  which  wasted  them- 
selves in  scattering  unthanked  and  unprofitable  bless- 
ings would  exert  themselves  to  crush  the  foe.  Then  he 
could  claim  for  himself  the  credit  deserved  by  much 
astuteness,  the  consideration  due  to  the  only  man  of 
political  resource  among  the  Twelve.  But  this  well- 
intending  Judas  is  equally  unknown  to  the  narratives 
and  the  prophecies,  and  this  theory  does  not  harmonise 
with  any  of  the  facts.  Profound  reprobation  and  even 
contempt  are  audible  in  all  the  narratives ;  they  are  quite 
as  audible  in  the  reiterated  phrase,  "  which  was  one  of 
the  Twelve,"  and  in  almost  every  mention  of  his  name, 
as  in  the  round  assertion  of  St.  John,  that  he  was  a 
thief  and  stole  from  the  common  purse.  Only  the  lowest 
motive  is  discernible  in  the  fact  that  his  project  ripened 
just  when  the  waste  of  the  ointment  spoiled  his  last 
hope  from  apostleship, — the  hope  of  unjust  gain,  and  in 
his  bargaining  for  the  miserable  price  which  he  still  ■, 
carried  with  him  when  the  veil  dropped  from  his  inner  ^ 
eyes,  when  he  av/oke  to  the  sorrow  of  the  world 
which  worketh  death,  to  the  remorse  which  was  not 
penitence. 

One  who  desired  that  Jesus  should  be  driven  to 
counter-measures  and  yet  free  to  take  them,  would 
probably  have  favoured  His  escape  when  once  the 
attempt  to  arrest   Him  inflicted    the  necessary   spur 


j68  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 

and  certainly  he  would  have  anxiously  avoided  any 
appearance  of  insult.  But  it  will  be  seen  that  Judas 
carefully  closed  every  door  against  his  Lord's  escape, 
and  seized  Him  with  something  very  like  a  jibe  on 
his  recreant  lips. 

No,  his  infamy  cannot  be  palliated,  but  it  can  be 
understood.  For  it  is  a  solemn  and  awful  truth,  that  in 
every  defeat  of  grace  the  reaction  is  equal  to  the  action  ; 
they  who  have  been  exalted  unto  heaven  are  brought 
down  far  below  the  level  of  the  world  ;  and  the  principle 
is  universal  that  Israel  cannot,  by  willing  it,  be  as  the 
nations  that  are  round  about,  to  serve  other  gods.  God 
Himself  gives  him  statutes  that  are  not  good.  He  makes 
fat  the  heart  and  blinds  the  eyes  of  the  apostate.  There- 
fore it  comes  that  religion  without  devotion  is  the 
mockery  of  honest  worldlings ;  that  hypocrisy  goes  so 
constantly  with  the  meanest  and  most  sordid  lust  of 
gain,  and  selfish  cruelty ;  that  publicans  and  harlots 
enter  heaven  before  scribes  and  pharisees,  that  salt 
which  has  lost  its  savour  is  fit  neither  for  the  land  nor 
for  the  dung-hill.  Oh,  then,  to  what  place  of  shamf 
shall  a  recreant  apostle  be  thrust  down  ? 

Moreover  it  must  be  observed  that  the  guilt  of  Judas, 
however  awful,  is  but  a  shade  more  dark  than  that  ot 
his  sanctimonious  employers,  who  sought  false  witnesses 
against  Christ,  extorted  by  menace  and  intrigue  a 
sentence  which  Pilate  openly  pronounced  to  be  unjust, 
mocked  His  despairing  agony,  and  on  the  resurrection 
morning  bribed  a  pagan  soldiery  to  lie  for  the  Hebrew 
faith  It  is  plain  enough  that  Jesus  could  not  and  did 
not  choose  the  apostles  through  foreknowledge  of  what 
they  would  hereafter  prove,  but  by  His  perception  of 
what  they  then  were,  and  what  they  were  capable  of 
becoming,  if  faithful  to  the  light  they  should  receive. 


Markxiv.  IO-I6.]  THE    TRAITOR.  369 


Not  on^,  when  chosen  first,  was  ready  to  welcome 
the  purely  spiritual  kingdom,  the  despised  Messiah, 
the  life  of  poverty  and  scorn.  They  had  to  learn,  and 
it  was  open  to  them  to  refuse  the  discipline.  Once  at 
least  they  were  asked,  Will  ye  also  go  away  ?  How 
severe  was  the  trial  may  be  seen  by  the  rebuke  of 
Peter,  and  the  petition  of  "  Zebedee's  children  "  and 
their  mother.  They  conquered  the  same  reluctance  of 
the  flesh  which  overcame  the  better  part  in  Judas. 
But  he  clung  desperately  to  secular  hope,  until  the  last 
vestige  of  such  hope  was  over.  Listening  to  the 
warnings  of  Christ  against  the  cares  of  this  world,  the 
lust  of  other  things,  love  of  high  places  and  contempt  of 
lowly  service,  and  watching  bright  offers  rejected  and 
influential  classes  estranged,  it  was  inevitable  that  a 
sense  of  personal  wrong,  and  a  vindictive  resentment, 
should  spring  up  in  his  gloomy  heart.  The  thorns 
choked  the  good  seed.  Then  came  a  deeper  fall.  As 
he  rejected  the  pure  light  of  self-sacrifice,  and  the  false 
light  of  his  romantic  daydreams  faded,  no  curb  was 
left  on  the  baser  instincts  which  are  latent  in  the  human 
heart.  Self-respect  being  already  lost,  and  conscience 
beaten  down,  he  was  allured  by  low  compensations, 
and  the  apostle  became  a  thief.  What  better  than  gain, 
however  sordid,  was  left  to  a  life  so  plainly  frustrated 
and  spoiled  ?  That  is  the  temptation  of  disillusion,  as 
fatal  to  middle  life  as  the  passions  are  to  early  man- 
hood. And  this  fall  reacted  again  upon  his  attitude 
towards  Jesus.  Like  all  who  will  not  walk  in  the  light, 
he  hated  the  light ;  like  all  hirelings  of  two  masters,  he 
hated  the  one  he  left.  Men  ask  how  Judas  could  have 
consented  to  accept  for  Jesus  the  Dloodmoney  of  a 
slave.  The  truth  is  that  his  treason  itself  yielded  him 
a  dreadful  satisfaction,  and  the  insulting  kiss,  and  the 

24 


370  GOSFEL   Of  ST.   MARK. 


sneering  "  Rabbi/'  expressed  the  malice  of  his  heart 
Well  for  him  if  he  had  never  been  born.  For  when  his 
conscience  awoke  with  a  start  and  told  him  what  thing 
he  had  become,  only  self-loathing  remained  to  him. 
Peter  denying  Jesus  was  nevertheless  at  heart  His  own ; 
a  look  sufficed  to  melt  him.  For  Judas,  Christ  was 
become  infinitely  remote  and  strange,  an  abstraction, 
"  the  innocent  blood,"  no  more  than  that.  And  so, 
when  Jesus  was  passing  into  the  holiest  through  the 
rent  veil  which  was  His  flesh,  this  first  Antichrist 
had  already  torn  with  his  own  hands  the  tissue  of 
the  curtain  which  hides  eternity. 

Now  let  us  observe  that  all  this  ruin  was  the  result 
of  forces  continually  at  work  upon  human  hearts. 
Aspiration,  vocation,  failure,  degradation — it  is  the 
summary  of  a  thousand  lives.  Only  it  is  here  exhibited 
on  a  vast  and  dreadful  scale  (magnified  by  the  light 
which  was  behind,  as  images  thrown  by  a  lantern  upon 
a  screen)  for  the  instruction  and  warning  of  the 
world. 

THE  SOP, 

"  And  when  it  was  evening  He  cometh  with  the  twelve.  And  as  they 
sat  and  were  eating,  Jesus  said,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  One  of  you  shall 
betray  Me.  even  he  that  eateth  with  Me.  They  began  to  be  sorrowful, 
and  to  say  unto  Him  one  by  one,  Is  it  I  ?  And  He  said  unto  them,  It 
is  one  of  the  twelve,  he  that  dippeth  with  Me  in  the  dish.  For  the  Son 
of  man  goeth,  even  as  it  is  written  of  Him :  but  woe  unto  that  man 
through  whom  the  Son  of  man  is  betrayed  1  good  were  it  for  that  man 
if  he  had  not  been  bom."— Mark  xiv.  17-21  (R.V.). 

In  the  deadly  wine  which  our  Lord  was  made  to  drink, 
every  ingredient  of  mortal  bitterness  was  mingled. 
And  it  shows  how  far  is  even  His  Church  from  com- 
prehending Him,  that  we  think  so  much  more  of  the 


Markxiv.  17-ai.]  THE  SOP.  371 


physical  than  the  mental  and  spiritual  horrors  which 
gather  around  the  closing  scene. 

But  the  tone  of  all  the  narratives,  and  perhaps 
especially  of  St.  Mark's,  is  that  of  the  exquisite  Collect 
which  reminds  us  that  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  con- 
tented to  be  betrayed,  and  given  up  into  the  hands  of 
wicked  men,  as  well  as  to  suffer  death  on  the  cross. 
Treason  and  outrage,  the  traitor's  kiss  and  the  weakness 
of  those  who  loved  Him,  the  hypocrisy  of  the  priest  and 
the  ingratitude  of  the  mob,  perjury  and  a  mock  trial, 
the  injustice  of  His  judges,  the  brutal  outrages  of  the 
soldiers,  the  worse  and  more  malignant  mockery  of 
scribe  and  Pharisee,  and  last  and  direst,  the  averting 
of  the  face  of  God,  these  were  more  dreadful  to  Jesus 
than  the  scourging  and  the  nails. 

And  so  there  is  great  stress  laid  upon  His  anticipa- 
tion of  the  misconduct  of  His  own. 

As  the  dreadful  evening  closes  in,  having  come  to 
the  guest  chamber  "  with  the  Twelve  " — eleven  whose 
hearts  should  fail  them  and  one  whose  heart  was  dead, 
it  was  "  as  they  sat  and  were  eating  "  that  the  oppres- 
sion of  the  traitor's  hypocrisy  became  intolerable,  and 
the  outraged  One  spoke  out.  *'  Verily  I  say  unto  you, 
One  of  you  shall  betray  Me,  even  he  that  eateth  with  Me." 
The  words  are  interpreted  as  well  as  predicted  in  the 
plaintive  Psalm  which  says,  ^'  Mine  own  familiar  friend 
in  whom  I  trusted,  which  did  also  eat  of  My  bread,  hath 
lifted  up  his  heel  against  Me."  And  perhaps  they  are 
less  a  disclosure  than  a  cry. 

Every  attempt  to  mitigate  the  treason  of  Judas, 
every  suggestion  that  he  may  only  have  striven  too 
wilfully  to  serve  our  Lord  by  forcing  Him  to  take 
decided  measures,  must  fail  to  account  for  the  sense  of 
utter  wrong  which  breathes  in  the  simple  and  piercing 


37«  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

complaint  "  one  of  you  .  .  .  even  he  that  eateth  with 
Me."  There  is  a  tone  in  all  the  narratives  which  is  at 
variance  with  any  palliation  of  the  crime. 

No  theology  is  worth  much  if  it  fails  to  confess,  at 
the  centre  of  all  the  words  and  deeds  of  Jesus,  a  great 
and  tender  human  heart.  He  might  have  spoken 
of  teaching  and  warnings  lavished  on  the  traitor,  and 
miracles  which  he  had  beheld  in  vain.  What  weighs 
heaviest  on  His  burdened  spirit  is  none  of  these ;  it  is 
that  one  should  betray  Him  who  had  eaten  His  bread. 

When  Brutus  was  dying  he  is  made  to  say — 

"  My  heart  doth  joy,  that  yet,  in  all  my  life, 
I  found  no  man,  but  he  was  true  to  me." 

But  no  form  of  innocent  sorrow  was  to  pass  Jesus  by. 

The  vagueness  in  the  words  "  one  of  you  shall  be- 
tray Me/'  was  doubtless  intended  to  suggest  in  all  a 
great  searching  of  heart.  Coming  just  before  the 
institution  of  the  Eucharistic  feast,  this  incident  anti- 
cipates the  command  which  it  perhaps  suggested  :  "  Let 
a  man  examine  himself,  and  so  let  him  eat."  It  is 
good  to  be  distrustful  of  one's  self.  And  if,  as  was 
natural,  the  Eleven  looked  one  upon  another  doubting 
of  whom  He  spake,  they  also  began  to  say  to  Him, 
one  by  one  (first  the  most  timid,  and  then  others  as 
the  circle  narrowed),  Is  it  I  ?  For  the  prince  of  this 
world  had  something  in  each  of  them, — some  frailty 
there  was,  some  reluctance  to  bear  the  yoke,  some 
longing  for  the  forbidden  ways  of  worldliness,  which 
alarmed  each  at  this  solemn  warning,  and  made  him 
ask.  Is  it,  can  it  be  possible,  that  it  is  I  ?  Religious 
self-sufficiency  was  not  then  the  apostolic  mood.  Their 
questioning  is  also  remarkable  as  a  proof  how  little 
they  suspected  Judas,  how  firmly  he  bore  himself  even 


Mark  xiv.  17-21.]  THE  SOI.  373 

as  those  all-revealing  words  were  spoken,  how  strong 
and  wary  was  the  temperament  which  Christ  would 
fain  have  sanctified.  For  between  the  Master  and  him 
there  could  have  been  no  more  concealment. 

The  apostles  were  right  to  distrust  themselves,  and 
not  to  distrust  another.  They  were  right,  because  they 
were  so  feeble,  so  unlike  their  Lord.  But  for  Him 
there  is  no  misgiving:  His  composure  is  serene  in 
the  hour  of  the  power  of  darkness.  And  His  perfect 
spiritual  sensibility  discerned  the  treachery,  unknown 
to  others,  as  instinctively  as  the  eye  resents  the  pre- 
sence of  a  mote  imperceptible  to  the  hand. 

The  traitor's  iron  nerve  is  somewhat  strained  as  he 
feels  himself  discovered,  and  when  Jesus  is  about  to 
hand  a  sop  to  him,  he  stretches  over,  and  their  hands 
meet  in  the  dish.  That  is  the  appointed  sign  :  "  It  is 
one  of  the  Twelve,  he  that  dippeth  with  Me  in  the 
dish,"  and  as  he  rushes  out  into  the  darkness,  to  seek 
his  accomplices  and  his  revenge,  Jesus  feels  the  awful 
contrast  between  the  betrayer  and  the  Betrayed.  For 
Himself,  He  goeth  as  it  is  written  of  Him.  This 
phrase  admirably  expresses  the  co-operation  of  Divine 
purpose  and  free  human  will,  and  by  the  woe  that 
follows  He  refutes  all  who  would  make  of  God's 
fore- knowledge  an  excuse  for  human  sin.  He  then  is 
not  walking  in  the  dark  and  stumbling,  though  men 
shall  think  Him  falling.  But  the  life  of  the  false  one 
is  worse  than  utterly  cast  away  :  of  him  is  spoken  the 
dark  and  ominous  word,  never  indisputably  certain  of 
any  other  soul,  "  Good  were  it  for  him  if  that  man  had 
not  been  born." 

"  That  man ! "  The  order  and  emphasis  are  very 
strange.  The  Lord,  who  felt  and  said  that  one  of  His 
chosen  was  a  devil,  seems  here  to  lay  stress  upon  the 


374  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

warning  thought,  that  he  who  fell  so  low  was  human, 
and  his  frightful  ruin  was  evolved  from  none  but  human 
capabilities  for  good  and  evil  In  "  the  Son  of  man  " 
and  "  that  man,"  the  same  humanity  was  to  be  found. 

For  Himself,  He  is  the  same  to-day  as  yesterday. 
All  that  we  eat  is  His.  And  in  the  most  especial  and 
far-reaching  sense,  it  is  His  bread  which  is  broken  for 
us  at  His  table.  Has  He  never  seen  traitor  except  one 
who  violated  so  close  a  bond  ?  Alas,  the  night  when 
the  Supper  of  the  Lord  was  given  was  the  same  nigh* 
when  He  was  betrayed. 


BREAD  AND   WINE. 

**  And  as  they  were  eating,  He  took  bread,  and  when  He  had  blessed 
He  brake  it,  and  gave  to  them,  and  said,  Take  ye  :  this  is  My  body 
And  He  took  a  cup,  and  when  He  had  given  thanks,  He  gave  to  them 
and  they  all  drank  of  it.  And  He  said  unto  them.  This  is  My  blooo 
of  the  covenant,  which  is  shed  for  many.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  ) 
will  no  more  drink  of  the  fruit  of  the  vine,  until  that  day  when  I  drinlf 
it  new  in  the  kingdom  of  God."— Mark  xiv.  22-25  (R- V.). 

How  much  does  the  Gospel  of  St.  Mark  tell  us  about 
the  Supper  of  the  Lord  ?  He  is  writing  to  Gentiles. 
He  is  writing  probably  before  the  sixth  chapter  o\ 
St.  John  was  penned,  certainly  before  it  reached  his 
readers.  Now  we  must  not  undervalue  the  reflected 
light  thrown  by  one  Scripture  upon  another.  Still  less 
may  we  suppose  that  each  account  conveys  all  the 
doctrine  of  the  Eucharist.  But  it  is  obvious  that 
St.  Mark  intended  his  narrative  to  be  complete  in 
itself,  even  if  not  exhaustive.  No  serious  expositor 
will  ignore  the  fulness  of  any  word  or  action  in  which 
later  experience  can  discern  meanings,  truly  involved, 
although  not  apparent  at  the  first.  That  would  be 
to  deny  the  inspiring  guidance  of  Him  who  sees  the 


Mark  xiv.  22-25.]        BREAD  AND    WINE,  375 

end  from  the  beginning.  But  it  is  reasonable  to  omit 
from  the  interpretation  of  St.  Mark  whatever  is  not 
either  explicitly  there,  or  else  there  in  germ,  waiting 
underneath  the  surface  for  other  influences  to  develope 
it.  For  instance,  the  "remembrance"  of  Christ 
in  St.  Paul's  narrative  may  (or  it  may  not)  mean  a 
sacrificial  memorial  to  God  of  His  Body  and  His  Blood. 
If  it  be,  this  notion  was  to  be  conveyed  to  the  readers 
of  this  Gospel  hereafter,  as  a  quite  new  fact,  resting 
upon  other  authority.  It  has  no  place  whatever  here, 
and  need  only  be  mentioned  to  point  out  that  St.  Mark 
did  not  feel  bound  to  convey  the  slightest  hint  «t  it. 
A  communion,  therefore,  could  be  profitably  celebrated 
by  persons  who  had  no  glimmering  of  any  such  con- 
ception. Nor  does  he  rely,  for  an  understanding  of 
his  narrative,  upon  such  familiarity  with  Jewish  ritual 
as  would  enable  his  readers  to  draw  subtle  analogies 
as  they  went  along.  They  were  so  ignorant  of  these 
observances  that  he  had  just  explained  to  them  on 
what  day  the  passover  was  sacrificed  (ver.  12). 

But  this  narrative  conveys  enough  to  make  the 
Lord's  Supper,  for  every  believing  heart,  the  supreme 
help  to  faith,  both  intellectual  and  spiritual,  and  the 
mightiest  of  promises,  and  the  richest  gift  of  grace. 

It  is  hard  to  imagine  that  any  reader  would  conceive 
that  the  bread  in  Christ's  hands  had  become  His  body, 
which  still  lived  and  breathed;  or  that  His  blood,  still 
flowing  in  His  veins,  was  also  in  the  cup  He  gave  to 
His  disciples.  No  resort  could  be  made  to  the  glorifica- 
tion of  the  risen  Body  as  an  escape  from  the  perplexities 
of  such  a  notion,  for  in  whatever  sense  the  words  are 
true,  they  were  spoken  of  the  body  of  His  humiliation, 
before  which  still  lay  the  agony  and  the  tomb. 

Instinct  would  revolt  yet  more  against  such  a  grosa 


376  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK. 

explanation,  because  the  friends  of  Jesus  are  bidden 
to  eat  and  drink.  And  all  the  analogy  of  Christ's 
language  would  prove  that  His  vivid  style  refuses  to 
be  tied  down  to  so  lifeless  and  mechanical  a  treatment. 
Even  in  this  Gospel  they  could  discover  that  seed  was 
teaching,  and  fowls  were  Satan,  and  that  they  were 
themselves  His  mother  and  His  brethren.  Further 
knowledge  of  Scripture  would  not  impair  this  natural 
freedom  of  interpretation.  For  they  would  discover 
that  if  animated  language  were  to  be  frozen  to  such 
literalism,  the  partakers  of  the  Supper  were  them- 
selves, though  many,  one  body  and  ont,  loaf,  that 
Onesimus  was  St.  Paul's  very  heart,  that  leaven  is 
hypocrisy,  that  Hagar  is  Mount  Sinai,  and  that  the  veil 
of  the  temple  is  the  flesh  of  Christ  ( I  Cor.  x.  17 ;  Philem. 
ver.  12;  Luke  xii.  i  ;  Gal.  iv.  25  ;  Heb.  x.  20).  And 
they  would  also  find,  in  the  analogous  institution  of 
the  paschal  feast,  a  similar  use  of  language  (Exod 
xii.  11). 

But  when  they  had  failed  to  discern  the  doctrine  of 
a  transubstantiation,  how  much  was  left  to  them.  The 
great  words  remained,  in  all  their  spirit  and  life,  "  Take 
ye,  this  is  My  Body  .  .  .  this  is  My  Blood  of  the 
Covenant,  which  is  shed  for  many." 

(i)  So  then,  Christ  did  not  look  forward  to  His 
death  as  to  ruin  or  overthrow.  The  Supper  is  an 
institution  which  could  never  have  been  devised  at 
any  later  period.  It  comes  to  us  by  an  unbroken  line 
from  the  Founder's  hand,  and  attested  by  the  earliest 
witnesses.  None  could  have  interpolated  a  new  ordi- 
nance into  the  simple  worship  of  the  early  Church,  and 
the  last  to  suggest  such  a  possibility  should  be  those 
sceptics  who  are  deeply  interested  in  exaggerating  the  es- 
tiangements  which  existed  from  the  first,  and  which  made 


Mark  xiv.  22-25.]  BREAD  AND    WINE,  377 

the  Jewish  Church  a  keen  critic  of  Gentile  innovation, 
and  the  Gentiles  of  a  Jewish  novelty. 

Nor  could  any  genius  have  devised  its  vivid  and 
pictorial  earnestness,  its  copious  meaning,  and  its 
pathetic  power  over  the  heart,  except  His,  Who  spoke 
of  the  Good  Shepherd  and  of  the  Prodigal  Son.  And 
so  it  tells  us  plainly  what  Christ  thought  about  His  own 
death.  I  )eath  is  to  most  of  us  simply  the  close  of  life. 
To  Him  it  was  itself  an  achievement,  and  a  supreme 
one.  Now  it  is  possible  to  remember  with  exultation 
a  victory  which  cost  the  conqueror's  life.  But  on  the 
Friday  which  we  call  Good,  nothing  happened  except 
the  crucifixion.  The  effect  on  the  Church,  which  is 
amazing  and  beyond  dispute,  is  produced  by  the  death 
of  her  Founder,  and  by  nothing  else.  The  Supper  has 
no  reference  to  Christ's  resurrection.  It  is  as  if  the 
nation  exulted  in  Trafalgar,  not  in  spite  of  the  death 
of  our  great  Admiral,  but  solely  because  he  died ;  as  if 
the  shot  which  slew  Nelson  had  itself  been  the  over- 
throw of  hostile  navies.  Now  the  history  of  religions 
offers  no  parallel  to  this.  The  admirers  of  the  Buddha 
love  to  celebrate  the  long  spiritual  struggle,  the  final 
illumination,  and  the  career  of  gentle  helpfulness.  They 
do  not  derive  life  and  energy  from  the  somewhat  vulgar 
manner  of  his  death.  But  the  followers  of  Jesus  find 
an  inspiration  (very  displeasing  to  some  recent  apostles 
of  good  taste)  in  singing  of  their  Redeemer's  blood. 
Remove  from  the  Creed  (m  hich  does  not  even  mention 
His  three  years  of  teaching)  the  proclamation  of  His 
death,  and  there  may  be  left,  dimly  visible  to  man,  the 
outline  of  a  sage  among  the  sages,  but  there  will  be  no 
longer  a  Messiah,  nor  a  Church.  It  is  because  He  was 
lifted  up  that  He  draws  all  men  unto  Him.  The  per- 
petual nourishment  of  the  Church,  her  bread  and  wine, 


378  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

are  beyond  question  the  slain  body  of  her  Master  and 
His  blood  poured  out  for  man. 

What  are  we  to  make  of  this  admitted  fact,  that  from 
the  first  she  thought  less  of  His  miracles,  His  teaching, 
and  even  of  His  revelation  of  the  Divine  character  in 
a  perfect  life,  than  of  the  doctrine  that  He  who  thus 
lived,  died  for  the  men  who  slew  Him?  And  what 
of  this,  that  Jesus  Himself,  in  the  presence  of  imminent 
death,  when  men  review  their  lives  and  set  a  value  on 
their  achievements,  embodied  in  a  solemn  ordinance 
the  conviction  that  all  He  had  taught  and  done  was 
less  to  man  than  what  He  was  about  to  suffer  ?  The 
Atonement  is  here  proclaimed  as  a  cardinal  fact  in  our 
religion,  not  worked  out  into  doctrinal  subtleties,  but 
placed  with  marvellous  simplicity  and  force,  in  the  fore- 
front of  the  consciousness  of  the  simplest.  What  the 
Incarnation  does  for  our  bewildering  thoughts  of  God, 
the  absolute  and  unconditioned,  that  does  the  Eucha- 
rist for  our  subtle  reasonings  upon  the  Atonement. 

(2)  The  death  of  Christ  is  thus  precious,  because  He 
Who  is  sacrificed  for  us  can  give  Himself  away.  *'  Take 
ye  "  is  a  distinct  offer.  And  so  the  communion  feast 
is  not  a  mere  commemoration,  such  as  nations  hold  for 
great  deliverances.  It  is  this,  but  it  is  much  more, 
else  the  language  of  Christ  would  apply  worse  to  that 
first  supper  whence  all  our  Eucharistic  language  is 
derived,  than  to  any  later  celebration.  When  He  was 
absent,  the  bread  would  very  aptly  remind  them  of  His 
wounded  body,  and  the  wine  of  His  blood  poured  out. 
It  might  naturally  be  said.  Henceforward,  to  your  loving 
remembrance  this  shall  be  my  Body,  as  indeed,  the 
words,  As  oft  as  ye  drink  it,  are  actually  linked  with 
the  injunction  to  do  this  in  remembrance.  But  scarcely 
could  it  have  been  said  by  Jesus,  looking  His  disciples 


Mark  xiv.  22-25.]        BREAD  AND    WINE.  379 

in  the  face,  that  the  elements  were  then  His  body  and 
blood,  if  nothing  more  than  commemoration  were  in 
His  mind.  And  so  long  as  popular  Protestantism  fails 
to  look  beyond  this,  so  long  will  it  be  hard  pressed  and 
harassed  by  the  evident  weight  of  the  words  of  institu- 
tion. These  are  given  in  Scripture  solely  as  having 
been  spoken  then,  and  no  interpretation  is  valid  which 
attends  chiefly  to  subsequent  celebrations,  and  only  in 
the  second  place  to  the  Supper  of  Jesus  and  the  Eleven. 

Now  the  most  strenuous  opponent  of  the  doctrine 
that  any  change  has  passed  over  the  material  substance 
of  the  bread  and  wine,  need  not  resist  the  palpable 
evidence  that  Christ  appointed  these  to  represent  Him- 
self. And  how  ?  Not  only  as  sacrificed  for  His  people, 
but  as  verily  bestowed  upon  them.  Unless  Christ 
mocks  us,  "  Take  ye  "  is  a  word  of  absolute  assurance. 
Christ's  Body  is  not  only  slain,  and  His  Blood  shed  on 
our  behalf;  He  gives  Himself  to  us  as  well  as  for  us; 
He  is  ours.  And  therefore  whoever  is  convinced  that 
he  may  take  part  in  "  the  sacrament  of  so  great  a 
mystery  "  should  realize  that  he  there  receives,  con- 
veyed to  him  by  the  Author  of  that  wondrous  feast,  all 
that  is  expressed  by  the  bread  and  wine. 

(3)  And  yet  this  very  word  "  Take  ye,"  demands  our 
co-operation  in  the  sacrament.  It  requires  that  we 
should  receive  Christ,  as  it  declares  that  He  is  ready  to 
impart  Himself,  utterly,  like  food  which  is  taken  into  the 
system,  absorbed,  assimilated,  wrought  into  bone,  into 
tissue  and  into  blood.  And  if  any  doubt  lingered  in  our 
minds  of  the  significance  of  this  word,  it  is  removed 
when  we  remember  how  belief  is  identified  with  feed- 
ing, in  St.  John's  Gospel.  '*  I  am  the  bread  of  life : 
he  that  cometh  to  Me  shall  not  hunger,  and  he  that 
beheveth  on    Me   s.hall    never  thirst.    ...    He   that 


38o  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


believeth  hath  eternal  Hfe.  I  am  the  bread  of  life." 
(John  vi.  35,  47,  48.)  If  it  follows  that  to  feed  upon 
Christ  is  to  believe,  it  also  follows  quite  as  plainly  that 
belief  is  not  genuine  unless  it  really  feeds  upon  Christ. 
It  is  indeed  impossible  to  imagine  a  more  direct  and 
vigorous  appeal  to  man  to  have  faith  in  Christ  than 
this,  that  He  formally  conveys,  by  the  agency  of  His 
Church,  to  the  hands  and  lips  of  His  disciples,  the 
appointed  emblem  of  Himself,  and  of  Himself  in  the  act 
of  blessing  them.  For  the  emblem  is  food  in  its  most 
nourishing  and  in  its  most  stimulating  form,  in  a  form 
the  best  fitted  to  speak  of  utter  self-sacrifice,  by  the 
bruised  corn  of  broken  bread,  and  by  the  solemn  re- 
semblance to  His  sacred  blood.  We  are  taught  to 
see,  in  the  absolute  absorption  of  our  food  into  our 
bodily  system,  a  type  of  the  completeness  wherewith 
Christ  gives  Himself  to  us. 

That  gift  is  not  to  the  Church  in  the  gross,  it  is 
"  divided  among  "  us ;  it  individualizes  each  believer ; 
and  yet  the  common  food  expresses  the  unity  of  the 
whole  Church  in  Christ.  Being  many  we  are  one  bread. 
Moreover,  the  institution  of  a  meal  reminds  us  that 
faith  and  emotion  do  not  always  exist  together.  Times 
there  are  when  the  hunger  and  thirst  of  the  soul  are 
like  the  craving  of  a  sharp  appetite  for  food.  But  the 
wise  man  will  not  postpone  his  meal  until  such  a  keen 
desire  returns,  and  the  Christian  will  seek  for  the 
Bread  of  life,  however  his  emotions  may  flag,  and  his 
soul  cleave  unto  the  dust.  Silently  and  often  unaware, 
as  the  substance  of  the  body  is  renovated  and  restored 
by  food,  shall  the  inner  man  be  strengthened  and 
built  up  by  that  Hving  Bread. 

(4)  We  have  yet   to  ask  the  great  question,  what 
is  the  specific  blessing  expressed  by  the  elements,  and 


Mark  xiv.  22-25.]  BREAD  AND    WINE.  381 

therefore  surely  given  to  the  faithful  by  the  sacra  v. en  . 
Too  many  are  content  to  think  vaguely  of  Divine 
help,  given  us  for  the  merit  of  the  death  of  Christ. 
But  bread  and  wine  do  not  express  an  indefinite 
Divine  help,  they  express  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ, 
they  have  to  do  with  His  Humanity.  We  must 
beware,  indeed,  of  Hmiting  the  notion  overmuch.  At 
the  Supper  He  said  not  "  My  flesh,"  but  "  My  body," 
which  is  plainly  a  more  comprehensive  term.  And 
in  the  discourse  when  He  said  My  Flesh  is  meat 
indeed,"  He  also  said  "  I  am  the  bread  of  life.  .  .  , 
He  that  eateth  Me,  the  same  shall  live  by  Me."  And 
we  may  not  so  carnalize  the  Body  as  to  exclude  the 
Person,  who  bestows  Himself.  Yet  is  all  the  language 
so  constructed  as  to  force  the  conviction  upon  us  that 
His  body  and  blood,  His  Humanity,  is  the  special 
gift  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  As  man  He  redeemed  us, 
and  as  man  He  imparts  Himself  to  man. 

Thus  we  are  led  up  to  the  sublime  conception  of  a  new 
human  force  working  in  humanity.  As  truly  as  the 
life  of  our  parents  is  in  our  veins,  and  the  corruption 
which  they  inherited  from  Adam  is  passed  on  to  us,  so 
truly  there  is  abroad  in  the  world  another  influence, 
stronger  to  elevate  than  the  infection  of  the  fall  is  to 
degrade ;  and  the  heart  of  the  Church  is  propelling  to 
its  utmost  extremities  the  pure  life  of  the  Second  Adam, 
the  Second  Man,  the  new  Father  of  the  race.  As  in 
Adam  all  die,  even  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive ; 
and  we  who  bear  now  the  image  of  our  earthy  pro- 
genitor shall  hereafter  bear  the  image  of  the  heavenly. 
Meanwhile,  even  as  the  waste  and  dead  tissues  of  our 
bodily  frame  are  replaced  by  new  material  from  every 
meal,  so  does  He,  the  living  Bread,  impart  not  only 
aid  from  heaven,  but  nourishment,  strength  to  our  poor 


38c  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

human  nature,  so  weary  and  exhausted,  and  renovation 
to  what  is  sinful  and  decayed.  How  well  does  such 
a  doctrine  of  the  sacrament  harmonize  with  the 
declarations  of  St.  Paul :  "  I  live,  and  yet  no  longer  I, 
but  Christ  liveth  in  me."  "  The  Head,  from  whom  all 
the  body  being  supplied  and  knit  together  through  the 
joints  and  bands,  increaseth  with  the  increase  of  God  " 
(Gal.  ii  20 ;  Col.  ii  19). 

(5)  In  the  brief  narrative  of  St.  Mark,  there  are  a 
few  minor  points  of  interest. 

Fasting  communions  may  possibly  be  an  expression 
of  reverence  only.  The  moment  they  are  pressed 
further,  or  urged  as  a  duty,  they  are  strangely  confronted 
by  the  words,  *'  While  they  were  eating,  Jesus  took 
bread." 

The  assertion  that  "  they  all  drank,"  follows  from 
the  express  commandment  recorded  elsewhere.  And 
while  we  remember  that  the  first  communicants  were 
not  laymen,  yet  the  emphatic  insistence  upon  this 
detail,  and  with  reference  only  to  the  cup,  is  entirely  at 
variance  with  the  Roman  notion  of  the  completeness 
of  a  communion  in  one  kind. 

It  is  most  instructive  also  to  observe  how  the  far- 
reaching  expectation  of  our  Lord  looks  beyond  the 
Eleven,  and  beyond  His  infant  Church,  forward  to  the 
great  multitude  which  no  man  can  number,  and  speaks 
of  the  shedding  of  His  blood  "  for  many."  He,  who  is 
to  see  of  the  travail  of  His  soul  and  to  be  satisfied,  has 
already  spoken  of  a  great  supper  when  the  house  ot 
God  shall  be  filled.  And  now  He  will  no  more  drink 
of  the  fruit  of  the  vine  until  that  great  day  when  the 
marriage  of  the  Lamb  having  come,  and  His  Bride 
having  made  herself  ready.  He  shall  drink  it  new  in  the 
consummated  kingdom  of  God. 


Mark xiv.  26-31.]  THE   WARNING,  383 

With  the  announcement  of  that  kingdom  He  began 
His  gospel :  how  could  the  mention  of  it  be  omitted 
from  the  great  gospel  of  the  Eucharist  ?  or  how  could 
the  Giver  of  the  earthly  feast  be  silent  concerning  the 
banquet  yet  to  come  ? 


THE   WARNING 

"  And  when  they  had  sung  a  hymn,  they  went  out  into  the  mount  of 
Olives.  And  Jesus  saith  unto  them,  All  ye  shall  be  offended  :  for  it  is 
written,  I  will  smite  the  shepherd,  and  the  sheep  shall  be  scattered 
abroad.  Howbeit,  after  I  am  raised  up,  I  will  go  before  you  into 
Galilee.  But  Peter  said  unto  Him,  Although  all  shall  be  offended,  yet 
will  not  I.  And  Jesus  saith  unto  him.  Verily  I  say  unto  thee,  that  thou 
to-day,  even  this  night,  before  the  cock  crow  twice,  shalt  deny  me 
thrice.  But  he  spake  exceeding  vehemently,  If  I  must  die  with  Thee, 
I  will  not  deny  Thee.  And  in  like  manner  also  said  they  all. " — Mark 
xiv.  26-31  (R.V.). 

Some  uncertainty  attaches  to  the  position  of  Christ's 
warning  to  the  Eleven  in  the  narrative  of  the  last 
evening.  Was  it  given  at  the  supper,  or  on  Mount 
OUvet;  or  were  there  perhaps  premonitory  admoni- 
tions on  His  part,  met  by  vows  of  faithfulness  on 
theirs,  which  at  last  led  Him  to  speak  out  so  plainly, 
and  elicited  such  vainglorious  protestations,  when  they 
sat  together  in  the  night  air  ? 

What  concerns  us  more  is  the  revelation  of  a  calm 
and  beautiful  nature,  at  every  point  in  the  narrative. 
Jesus  knows  and  has  declared  that  His  life  is  now 
closing,  and  His  blood  already  "  being  shed  for  many." 
But  that  does  not  prevent  Him  from  joining  with  them 
in  singing  a  hymn.  It  is  the  only  time  when  we  are 
told  that  our  Saviour  sang,  evidently  because  no  other 
occasion  needed  mention ;  a  warning  to  those  who 
draw  confident  inferences  from  such  facts  as  that "  none 


384  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

ever  said  He  smiled,"  or  that  there  is  no  record  of  His 
having  been  sick.  It  would  surprise  such  theorists  to 
observe  the  number  of  biographies  much  longer  than  any 
of  the  Gospels,  which  also  mention  nothing  of  the  kind. 
The  Psalms  usually  sung  at  the  close  of  the  feast  are  cxv. 
and  the  three  following.  The  first  tells  how  the  dead 
praise  not  the  Lord,  but  we  will  praise  Him  from  this 
time  forth  for  even  The  second  proclaims  that  the 
Lord  hath  delivered  my  soul  from  death,  mine  eyes 
from  tears,  and  my  feet  from  falling.  The  third  bids 
all  the  nations  praise  the  Lord,  for  his  merciful  kindness 
is  great  and  His  truth  endureth  for  ever.  And  the 
fourth  rejoices  because,  although  all  nations  compassed 
me  about,  yet  I  shall  not  die,  but  live  and  declare  the 
works  of  the  Lord ;  and  because  the  stone  which  the 
builders  rejected  is  become  the  head  stone  of  the  corner. 
Memories  of  infinite  sadness  were  awakened  by  the 
words  which  had  so  lately  rung  around  His  path : 
''  Blessed  is  He  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord ; " 
but  His  voice  was  strong  to  sing,  '*  Bind  the  sacrifice  with 
cords,  even  to  the  horns  of  the  altar ; "  and  it  rose  to  the 
exultant  close,  "  Thou  art  my  God,  and  I  will  praise 
Thee  :  Thou  art  my  God,  I  will  exalt  Thee.  O  give 
thanks  unto  the  Lord  for  He  is  good,  for  His  mercy 
endureth  for  ever." 

This  hymn,  from  the  lips  of  the  Perfect  One,  could 
be  no  "  dying  swan-song."  It  uplifted  that  more  than 
heroic  heart  to  the  wonderful  tranquillity  which  presently 
said,  "When  I  am  risen,  I  will  go  before  you  into 
Galilee."  It  is  full  of  victory.  And  now  they  go  unto 
the  Mount  of  Olives. 

Is  it  enough  considered  how  much  of  the  life  of 
Jesus  was  passed  in  the  open  air  ?  He  preached  on 
the  hill  side ;  He  desired  that  a  boat  should  be  at  His 


Mark.  xJv   26-31.J  THE    WARNING.  385 

command  upon  the  lake ;  He  prayed  upon  the  moun- 
tain; He  was  transfigured  beside  the  snows  of  Hermon; 
He  oft-times  resorted  to  a  garden  which  had  not  yet 
grown  awful ;  He  met  His  disciples  on  a  Galilean 
mountain  ;  and  He  finally  ascended  from  the  Mount 
of  Olives.  His  unartificial  normal  iife,  a  pattern  to 
us,  not  as  students  but  as  men — was  spent  by  prefer- 
ence neither  in  the  study  nor  the  street. 

In  this  crisis,  most  solemn  and  yet  most  calm.  He 
leaves  the  crowded  city  into  which  all  the  tribes  had 
gathered,  and  chooses  for  His  last  intercourse  with 
His  disciples,  the  slopes  of  the  opposite  hill  side,  while 
overhead  is  glowing,  in  all  the  still  splendour  of  an 
Eastern  sky,  the  full  moon  of  Passover.  Here  then 
is  the  place  for  one  more  emphatic  warning.  Think 
how  He  loved  them.  As  His  mind  reverts  to  the 
impending  blow,  and  apprehends  it  in  its  most  awful 
form,  the  very  buffet  of  God  Who  Himself  will  smite 
the  Shepherd,  He  remembers  to  warn  His  disciples  of 
their  weakness.  We  feel  it  to  be  gracious  that  He 
should  think  of  them  at  such  a  time.  But  if  we  drew 
a  little  nearer,  we  should  almost  hear  the  beating  of 
the  most  loving  heart  that  ever  broke.  They  were 
all  He  had.  In  them  He  had  confided  utterly.  Even 
as  the  Father  had  loved  Him,  He  also  had  loved  them, 
the  firstfruits  of  the  travail  of  His  soul.  He  had 
ceased  to  call  them  servants  and  had  called  them 
friends.  To  them  He  had  spoken  those  affecting 
words,  "  Ye  are  they  which  have  continued  with  me  in 
My  temptations."  How  intensely  He  clung  to  their 
sympathy,  imperfect  though  it  was,  is  best  seen  by 
His  repeated  appeals  to  it  in  the  Agony.  And  He 
knew  that  they  loved  Hirn,  that  the  spirit  was  willing, 
that  thev  w(^id  weep  and  lament  for  Him,  sorrowing 

25 


386  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

with  a  sorrow  which  He  hastened  to  add  that  He 
would  turn  into  joy. 

It  is  the  preciousness  of  their  fellowship  which 
reminds  Him  how  this,  like  all  else,  must  fail  Him. 
If  there  is  blame  in  the  words,  "  Ye  shall  be  offended," 
this  passes  at  once  into  exquisite  sadness  when  He 
adds  that  He,  Who  so  lately  said,  "  Them  that  Thou 
gavest  Me,  I  have  guarded,"  should  Himself  be  the 
cause  of  their  offence,  "  All  ye  shall  be  caused  to 
stumble  because  of  Me."  And  there  is  an  unfathom- 
able tenderness,  a  marvellous  allowance  for  their  frailty 
in  what  follows.  They  were  His  sheep,  and  therefore 
as  helpless,  as  little  to  be  relied  upon,  as  sheep  when 
the  shepherd  is  stricken.  How  natural  it  was  for  sheep 
to  be  scattered. 

The  world  has  no  parallel  for  such  a  warning  to 
comrades  who  are  about  to  leave  their  leader,  so  faith- 
ful and  yet  so  tender,  so  far  from  estrangement  or 
reproach. 

If  it  stood  alone  it  would  prove  the  Founder  of  the 
Church  to  be  not  only  a  great  teacher,  but  a  genuine 
Son  of  man. 

For  Himself,  He  does  not  share  their  weakness,  nor 
apply  to  Himself  the  lesson  of  distrustfulness  which 
He  teaches  them ;  He  is  of  another  nature  from  these 
trembling  sheep,  the  Shepherd  of  Zechariah,  *'  Who  is 
My  fellow,  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts."  He  does  not 
shrink  from  applying  to  Himself  this  text,  which 
awakens  against  Him  the  sword  of  God  (Zechariah 
xiii.  7). 

Looking  now  beyond  the  grave  to  the  resurrection, 
and  unestranged  by  their  desertion,  He  resumes  at 
once  the  old  relation ;  for  as  the  shepherd  goeth  before 
hi«  sheep,  and  they  follow  him,  so  He  will  go  before 


Mark  xiv.  26-31.]  THE    WARNING.  387 

them  into  Galilee,  to  the  familiar  places,  far  from  the 
city  where  men  hate  Him. 

This  last  touch  of  quiet  human  feeling  completes 
an  utterance  too  beautiful,  too  characteristic  to  be 
spurious,  yet  a  prophecy,  and  one  which  attests  the 
ancient  predictions,  and  which  involves  an  amazing 
claim. 

At  first  sight  it  is  surprising  that  the  Eleven  who 
were  lately  so  conscious  of  weakness  that  each  asked 
was  he  the  traitor,  should  since  have  become  too 
self-confident  to  profit  by  a  solemn  admonition.  But 
a  little  examination  shows  the  two  statements  to  be 
quite  consistent.  They  had  wronged  themselves  by 
that  suspicion,  and  never  is  self-reliance  more  boastful 
than  when  it  is  reassured  after  being  shaken.  The 
institution  of  the  Sacrament  had  invested  them  with 
new  privileges,  and  drawn  them  nearer  than  ever  to 
their  Master.  Add  to  this  the  infinite  tenderness  of 
the  last  discourse  in  St.  John,  and  the  prayer  which 
was  for  them  and  not  for  the  world.  How  did  their 
hearts  burn  within  them  as  He  said,  "  Holy  Father, 
keep  them  in  Thy  name  whom  Thou  hast  given  Me." 
How  incredible  must  it  then  have  seemed  to  them, 
thrilling  with  real  sympathy  and  loyal  gratitude,  that 
they  should  forsake  such  a  Master. 

Nor  must  we  read  in  their  words  merely  a  loud  and 
indignant  self-assertion,  all  unworthy  of  the  time  and 
scene.  They  were  meant  to  be  a  solemn  vow.  The 
love  they  professed  was  genuine  and  warm.  Only 
they  forgot  their  weakness ;  they  did  not  observe  the 
words  which  declared  them  to  be  helpless  sheep  en- 
tirely dependent  on  the  Shepherd,  whose  support  would 
speedily  seem  to  fail. 

Instead  of  harsh  and  unbecoming   criticism,  which 


388  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

repeats  almost  exactly  their  fault  by  implying  that  we 
should  not  yield  to  the  same  pressure,  let  us  learn 
the  lesson,  that  religious  exaltation,  a  sense  of  special 
privilege,  and  the  glow  of  generous  emotions,  have 
their  own  danger.  Unless  we  continue  to  be  as  Uttle 
children,  receiving  the  Bread  of  Life,  without  any  pre- 
tence to  have  deserved  it,  and  conscious  still  that  our 
only  protection  is  the  staff  of  our  Shepherd,  then  the 
very  notion  that  we  are  something,  when  we  are  no- 
thing, will  betray  us  to  defeat  and  shame. 

Peter  is  the  loudest  in  his  protestations ;  and  there 
is  a  painful  egoism  in  his  boast,  that  even  if  the  others 
fail,  he  will  never  deny  Him.  So  in  the  storm,  it  is 
he  who  should  be  called  across  the  waters.  And  so  an 
early  reading  makes  him  propose  that  he  alone  should 
build  the  tabernacles  for  the  wondrous  Three. 

Naturally  enough,  this  egoism  stimulates  the  rest. 
For  them,  Peter  is  among  those  who  may  fail,  while 
each  is  confident  that  he  himself  cannot  Thus  the 
pride  of  one  excites  the  pride  of  many. 

But  Christ  has  a  special  humiliation  to  reveal  for 
his  special  self-assertion.  That  day,  and  even  before 
that  brief  night  was  over,  before  the  second  cock- 
crowing  ("  the  cock-crow "  of  the  rest,  being  that 
which  announced  the  dawn)  he  shall  deny  his  Master 
twice.  Peter  does  not  observe  that  his  eager  contra- 
dictions are  already  denying  the  Master's  profoundest 
claims.  The  others  join  in  his  renewed  protesta- 
tions, and  their  Lord  answers  them  no  more.  Since 
they  refuse  to  learn  from  Him,  thej'  must  be  left  to 
the  stern  schooling  of  experience.  Even  before  the 
betrayal,  they  had  an  opportunity  to  judge  how  little 
their  good  intentions  might  avail.  For  Jesus  now 
enters  Gethsemane. 


Mark  xiv.  32-42.]  IN   THE   GARDEN,  3*9 


IN  THE   GARDEN. 

"  And  they  come  unto  a  place  which  was  named  Gethsemane  :  and  He 
saith  unto  His  disciples,  Sit  ye  here,  while  I  pray.  And  He  taketh  with 
Him  Peter  and  James  and  John,  and  began  to  be  greatly  amazed,  and 
sore  troubled.  And  He  saith  unto  them,  My  soul  is  exceediiig  sorrow- 
fill  even  unto  death  :  abide  ye  here,  and  watch.  And  He  went  forward 
a  little,  and  fell  on  the  ground,  and  prayed  that,  if  it  were  possible,  the 
hour  might  pass  away  from  Him.  And  He  said,  Abba,  Father,  all 
thiigs  are  possible  unto  Thee  :  remove  this  cup  from  Me  :  howbeit  not 
what  I  will,  but  what  Thou  wilt.  And  He  cometh,  and  findeth  them 
sleeping,  and  saith  unto  Peter,  Simon,  sleepest  thou  ?  couldest  thou  not 
watch  one  hour  ?  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into  temptation  : 
the  spirit  indeed  is  willing,  but  the  <lesh  is  weak.  And  again  He  went 
away,  and  prayed,  saying  the  same  words.  And  again  He  came,  and 
found  them  sleeping,  for  their  eyes  were  very  heavy  ;  and  they  wist  not 
what  to  answer  Him.  And  He  cometh  the  third  time,  and  saith  unto 
them,  Sleep  on  now,  and  take  your  rest :  it  is  enough  ;  the  hour  is 
come  ;  behold,  the  Son  of  man  is  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  sinners. 
Arise,  let  us  be  going  :  behold,  he  that  betrayeth  Me  is  at  hand. " — 
Mark  xiv.  32-42  (R.V,). 

All  Scripture;  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  is  profitable ; 
yet  must  we  approach  with  reverence  and  solemn 
shrinking,  the  story  of  our  Saviour's  anguish.  It  is  a 
subject  for  caution  and  for  reticence,  putting  away  all 
over-curious  surmise,  all  too-subtle  theorizing,  and 
choosing  to  say  too  little  rather  than  too  much. 

It  is  possible  so  to  argue  about  the  metaphysics  of 
the  Agony  as  to  forget  that  a  suffering  human  heart 
was  there,  and  that  each  of  us  owes  his  soul  to  the 
victory  which  was  decided  if  not  completed  in  that 
fearful  place.  The  Evangelists  simply  tell  us  how  He 
suffered. 

Let  us  begin  with  the  accessories  of  the  scene,  and 
gradually  approach  the  centre. 

In  the  warning  of  Jesus  to  His  disciples  there  was  an 
undertone  of  deep  sorrow.     God  will  smite  Him,  and 


390  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

they  will  all  be  scattered  like  sheep.  However  daunt- 
less be  the  purport  of  such  words,  it  is  impossible  to 
lose  sight  of  their  melancholy.  And  when  the  Eleven 
rejected  His  prophetic  warning,  and  persisted  in  trusting 
the  hearts  He  knew  to  be  so  fearful,  their  professions 
of  loyalty  could  only  deepen  His  distress,  and  intensify 
His  isolation. 

In  silence  He  turns  to  the  deep  gloom  of  the  olive 
grove,  aware  now  of  the  approach  of  the  darkest  and 
deadliest  assault. 

There  was  a  striking  contrast  between  the  scene  of 
His  first  temptation  and  His  last ;  and  His  experience 
was  exactly  the  reverse  of  that  of  the  first  Adam,  who 
began  in  a  garden,  and  was  driven  thence  into  the 
desert,  because  he  failed  to  refuse  himself  one  pleasure 
more  beside  ten  thousand.  Jesus  began  where  the 
transgression  of  men  had  driven  them,  in  the  desert 
among  the  wild  beasts,  and  resisted  not  a  luxury,  but 
the  passion  of  hunger  craving  for  bread.  Now  He  is 
in  a  garden,  but  how  different  from  theirs.  Close  by 
is  a  city  filled  with  foemen,  whose  messengers  are 
already  on  His  track.  Instead  of  the  attraction  of 
a  fruit  good  for  food,  and  pleasant,  and  to  be  desired 
to  make  one  wise,  there  is  the  grim  repulsion  of  death, 
and  its  anguish,  and  its  shame  and  mockery.  He  is 
now  to  be  assailed  by  the  utmost  terrors  of  the  flesh 
and  of  the  spirit.  And  like  the  temptation  in  the 
wilderness,  the  assault  is  three  times  renewed. 

As  the  dark  ''  hour "  approached,  Jesus  confessed 
the  two  conflicting  instincts  of  our  human  nature  in  its 
extremity — the  desire  of  sympathy,  and  the  desire  of 
solitude.  Leaving  eight  of  the  disciples  at  some  distance, 
He  led  still  nearer  to  the  appointed  place  His  elect 
of  His  election,  on  whom  He  had  so  often  bestowed 


Mark  xiv.  32-42.]!  IN  THE   GARDEN.  391 

special  privilege,  and  whose  faith  would  be  less  shaken 
by  the  sight  of  His  human  weakness,  because  they  had 
beheld  His  Divine  glory  on  the  holy  mount.  To  these 
He  opened  His  heart.  "  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful, 
even  unto  death  ;  abide  ye  here  and  watch."  And  He 
went  from  them  a  little.  Their  neighbourhood  was 
a  support  in  His  dreadful  conflict,  and  He  could  at 
times  return  to  them  for  sympathy ;  but  they  might 
not  enter  with  Him  into  the  cloud,  darker  and  deadlier 
than  that  which  they  feared  on  Hermon.  He  would 
fain  not  be  desolate,  and  yet  He  must  be  alone. 

But  when  He  returned,  they  were  asleep.  As  Jesus 
spoke  of  watching  for  one  hour,  some  time  had  doubt- 
less elapsed.  And  sorrow  is  exhausting.  If  the  spirit 
do  not  seek  for  support  from  God,  it  will  be  dragged 
down  by  the  flesh  into  heavy  sleep,  and  the  brief  and 
dangerous  respite  of  oblivion. 

It  was  the  failure  of  Peter  which  most  keenly  affected 
Jesus,  not  only  because  his  professions  had  been  so 
loud,  but  because  much  depended  on  his  force  of  cha- 
racter. Thus,  when  Satan  had  desired  to  have  them, 
that  he  might  sift  them  all  like  wheat,  the  prayers  of 
Jesus  were  especially  for  Simon,  and  it  was  he  when  he 
was  converted  who  should  strengthen  the  rest.  Surely 
then  he  at  least  might  have  watched  one  hour.  And 
what  of  John,  His  nearest  human  friend,  whose  head 
had  reposed  upon  His  bosom  ?  However  keen  the 
pang,  the  lips  of  the  Perfect  Friend  were  silent ;  only 
He  warned  them  all  alike  to  watch  and  pray,  because 
they  were  themselves  in  danger  of  temptation. 

That  is  a  lesson  for  all  time.  No  affection  and  no 
zeal  are  a  substitute  for  the  presence  of  God  realised, 
and  the  protection  of  God  invoked.  Loyalty  and  love 
are  not  enough  without  watchfulness  and  prayer,  for 


392  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


even  when  the  spirit  is  willing,  the  flesh  is  weak,  and 
needs  to  be  upheld. 

Thus,  in  His  severest  trial  and  heaviest  oppression, 
there  is  neither  querulousness  nor  invective,  but  a  most 
ample  recognition  of  their  good  will,  a  most  generous 
allowance  for  their  weakness,  a  most  sedulous  desire, 
not  that  He  should  be  comforted,  but  that  they  should 
escape  temptation. 

With  His  yearning  heart  unsoothed,  with  another 
anxiety  added  to  His  heavy  burden,  Jesus  returned  to 
His  vigil.  Three  times  He  felt  the  wound  of  unrequited 
affection,  for  their  eyes  were  very  heavy,  and  they  wist 
not  what  to  answer  Him  when  He  spoke. 

Nor  should  we  omit  to  contrast  their  bewildered 
stupefaction,  with  the  keen  vigilance  and  self-possession 
of  their  more  heavily  burdened  Lord. 

If  we  reflect  that  Jesus  must  needs  experience  all  the 
sorrows  that  human  weakness  and  human  wickedness 
could  inflict,  we  may  conceive  of  these  varied  wrongs  as 
circles  with  a  common  centre,  on  which  the  cross  was 
planted.  And  our  Lord  has  now  entered  the  first  of 
these ;  He  has  looked  for  pity  but  there  was  no  man  ; 
His  own,  although  it  was  grief  which  pressed  them 
down,  slept  in  the  hour  of  His  anguish,  and  when  He 
bade  them  watch. 

It  is  right  to  observe  that  our  Saviour  had  not  bidden 
them  to  pray  with  Him.  They  should  watch  and  pray. 
They  should  even  watch  with  Him.  But  to  pray  for 
Him,  or  even  to  pray  with  Him,  they  were  not  bidden. 
And  this  is  always  so.  Never  do  we  read  that  Jesus 
and  any  mortal  joined  together  in  any  prayer  to  God. 
On  the  contrary,  when  two  or  three  of  them  asked  any- 
thing in  His  name.  He  took  for  Himself  the  position  of 
thi  Giver  of  their  petition.      And  we  know  certainly 


Markxiv.  34-42-]  THE  AGONY,  393 

that  He  did  not  invite  them  to  join  His  prayers,  for  it 
was  as  He  was  praying  in  a  certain  place  that  when  He 
ceased,  one  of  His  disciples  desired  that  they  also  might 
be  taught  to  pray  (Luke  xi.  i).  Clearly  then  they 
were  not  wont  to  approach  the  mercy  seat  hand  in 
hand  with  Jesus.  And  the  reason  is  plain.  He  came 
directly  to  His  Father;  no  man  else  came  unto  the 
Father  but  by  Him  ;  there  was  an  essential  difference 
between  His  attitude  towards  God  and  ours. 

Has  the  Socinian  ever  asked  himself  why,  in  this 
hour  of  His  utmost  weakness,  Jesus  sought  no  help 
from  the  intercession  of  even  the  chiefs  of  the 
apostles  ? 

It  is  in  strict  harmony  with  this  position,  that  St. 
Matthew  tells  us.  He  now  said  not  Our  Father,  but  My 
Father.  No  disciple  is  taught,  in  any  circumstances  to 
claim  for  himself  a  monopolized  or  special  sonship.  He 
may  be  in  his  closet  and  the  door  shut,  yet  must  he 
remember  his  brethren  and  say,  Our  Father.  That  is  a 
phrase  which  Jesus  never  addressed  to  God.  None  is 
partaker  of  His  Sonship ;  none  joined  with  Him  in 
supplication  to  His  Father. 

THE  AGONY. 

**  And  He  saith  unto  them,  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto 
death  :  abide  ye  here,  and  watch.  And  He  went  forward  a  little,  and 
fell  on  the  ground,  and  prayed  that,  if  it  were  possible,  the  hour  might 
pass  away  from  Him.  And  He  said,  Abba,  Father,  all  things  are 
possible  unto  Thee  j  remove  this  cup  from  Me  :  howbeit  not  what  I 
will,  but  what  Thou  wilt.  And  Hecometh,  and  findeth  them  sleeping, 
and  saith  unto  Peter,  Simon,  sleepest  thou  ?  couldest  thou  not  watch 
one  hour  ?  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into  temptation  :  the 
spirit  indeed  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak.  And  again  He  went 
away,  and  prayed,  saying  the  same  words.  And  again  He  came,  and 
found  them  sleeping,  for  their  eyes  were  very  heavy  ;  and  they  wist  not 
what  to  answer  Him.  And  He  cometh  the  third  time,  and  saith  imto 
them,  Sleep  on  new,  and  take  your  rest :  it  is  enough ;  the  hour  ia 


394  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

come  ;  behold,  the  Son  of  man  is  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  sinners. 
Arise,  let  us  be  going  :  behold,  he  that  betray eth  Me  is  at  hand." — 
Mark  xiv.  34-42  (R.V.). 

Sceptics  and  believers  have  both  remarked  that  St. 
John,  the  only  Evangelist  who  was  said  to  have  been 
present,  gives  no  account  of  the  Agony. 

It  is  urged  by  the  former,  that  the  serene  composure 
of  the  discourse  in  his  Gospel  leaves  no  room  for  subse- 
quent mental  conflict  and  recoil  from  suffering,  which 
are  inconsistent  besides  with  his  conception  of  a  Divine 
man,  too  exalted  to  be  the  subject  of  such  emotions. 

But  do  not  the  others  know  of  composure  which  bore 
to  speak  of  His  Body  as  broken  bread,  and  seeing  in 
the  cup  the  likeness  of  His  Blood  shed,  gave  it  to  be 
the  food  of  His  Church  for  ever  ? 

Was  the  resignation  less  serene  which  spoke  of  the 
smiting  of  the  Shepherd,  and  yet  of  His  leading  back 
the  flock  to  Galilee  ?  If  the  narrative  was  rejected  as 
inconsistent  with  the  calmness  of  Jesus  in  the  fourth 
Gospel,  it  should  equally  have  repelled  the  authors  of 
the  other  three. 

We  may  grant  that  emotion,  agitation,  is  inconsistent 
with  unbelieving  conceptions  of  the  Christ  of  the  fourth 
Gospel.  But  this  only  proves  how  false  those  concep- 
tions are.  For  the  emotion,  the  agitation,  is  already  there.- 
At  the  grave  of  Lazarus  the  word  which  tells  that  when 
He  groaned  in  spirit  He  was  troubled,  describes  one's 
distress  in  the  presence  of  some  palpable  opposing 
force  (John  xi.  34).  There  was,  however,  a  much  closer 
approach  to  His  emotion  in  the  garden,  when  the  Greek 
world  first  approached  Him.  Then  He  contrasted  its 
pursuit  of  self-culture  with  His  own  doctrine  of  self- 
sacrifice,  declaring  that  even  a  grain  of  wheat  »Tiust 
either  die  or  abide   by  itself  alone.      To  Jesu»  that 


Marie  xir.  34-42-]  THE  AGONY.  395 

doctrine  was  no  smooth,  easily  announced  theory,  and 
so  He  adds,  "  Now  is  My  soul  troubled,  and  what  shall 
I  say  ?  Father  save  Me  from  this  hour.  But  for  this 
cause  came  I  unto  this  hour  "  (John  xii.  27). 

Such  is  the  Jesus  of  the  fourth  Gospel,  by  no  means 
that  of  its  modern  analysts.  Nor  is  enough  said,  when 
we  remind  them  that  the  Speaker  of  these  words  was 
capable  of  suffering;  we  must  add  that  profound  agi- 
tation at  the  last  was  inevitable,  for  One  so  resolute  in 
coming  to  this  hour,  yet  so  keenly  sensitive  of  its  dread. 

The  truth  is  that  the  silence  of  St.  John  is  quite  in 
his  manner.  It  is  so  that  he  passes  by  the  Sacra- 
ments, as  being  familiar  to  his  readers,  already  instructed 
in  the  gospel  story.  But  he  gives  previous  discourses 
in  which  the  same  doctrine  is  expressed  which  was  em- 
bodied in  each  Sacrament, — the  declaration  that  Nico- 
demus  must  be  born  of  water,  and  that  the  Jews  must 
eat  His  flesh  and  drink  His  blood.  It  is  thus  that 
instead  of  the  agony,  he  records  that  earlier  agitation. 
And  this  threefold  recurrence  of  the  same  expedient 
is  almost  incredible  except,  by  design.  St.  John  was 
therefore  not  forgetful  of  Gethsemane. 

A  coarser  infidelity  has  much  to  say  about  the 
shrinking  of  our  Lord  from  death.  Such  weakness  is 
pronounced  unworthy,  and  the  bearing  of  multitudes 
of  brave  men  and  even  of  Christian  martyrs,  unmoved 
in  the  flames,  is  contrasted  with  the  strong  crying  and 
tears  of  Jesus. 

It  would  suffice  to  answer  that  Jesus  also  failed  not 
when  the  trial  came,  but  before  Pontius  Pilate  wit- 
nessed a  good  confession,  and  won  upon  the  cross  the 
adoration  of  a  fellow-sufferer  and  the  confession  of  a 
Roman  soldier.  It  is  more  than  enough  to  answer 
that  His  story,  so  far  from  relaxing  the  nerve  of  human 


396  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

fortitude,  has  made  those  who  love  Him  stronger  to 
endure  tortures  than  were  emperors  and  inquisitors 
to  invent  them.  What  men  call  His  weakness  has 
inspired  ages  with  fortitude.  Moreover,  the  censure 
which  such  critics,  much  at  ease,  pronounce  on  Jesus 
expecting  crucifixion,  arises  entirely  from  the  magnifi- 
cent and  unique  standard  by  which  they  try  Him ;  for 
who  is  so  hard-hearted  as  to  think  less  of  the  valour 
of  the  martyrs  because  it  was  bought  by  many  a  lonely 
and  intense  conflict  with  the  flesh  ? 

For  us,  we  accept  the  standard ;  we  deny  that  Jesus 
in  the  garden  came  short  of  absolute  perfection;  but 
we  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  much  is  conceded  to  us, 
when  a  criticism  is  ruthlessly  applied  to  our  Lord  which 
would  excite  indignation  and  contempt  if  brought  to 
bear  on  the  silent  sufferings  of  any  hero  or  martyr  but 
Himself. 

Perfection  is  exactly  what  complicates  the  problem 
here. 

Conscious  of  our  own  weakness,  we  not  only  justify 
but  enjoin  upon  ourselves  every  means  of  attaining  as 
much  nobility  as  we  may.  We  "  steel  ourselves  to 
bear,"  and  therefore  we  are  led  to  expect  the  same  of 
Jesus.  We  aim  at  some  measure  of  what,  in  its  lowest 
stage,  is  callous  insensibility.  Now  that  word  is  nega- 
tive ;  it  asserts  the  absence  or  paralysis  of  a  faculty,  not 
its  fulness  and  activity.  Thus  we  attain  victory  by  a 
double  process ;  in  part  by  resolutely  turning  our  mind 
away,  and  only  in  part  by  its  ascendancy  over  appre- 
ciated distress.  We  administer  anodynes  to  the  soul. 
But  Jesus,  when  he  had  tasted  thereof,  would  not  drink. 
The  horrors  which  were  closing  around  Him  were 
perfectly  apprehended,  that  they  might  perfectly  be 
overcome. 


Mark  xiv.  34  42]  ^^^   AGONY.  397 

Thus  sufifering,  He  became  an  example  for  gentle 
womanhood,  and  tender  childhood,  as  well  as  man 
boastful  of  his  stoicism.  Moreover,  He  introduced  into 
the  world  a  new  type  of  virtue,  much  softer  and  more 
emotional  than  that  of  the  sages.  The  stoic,  to  whom 
pain  is  no  evil,  and  the  Indian  laughing  and  singing 
at  the  stake,  are  partly  actors  and  partly  perversions 
of  humanity.  But  the  good  Shepherd  is  also,  for  His 
gentleness,  a  lamb.  And  it  is  His  influence  which  has 
opened  our  eyes  to  see  a  charm  unknown  before,  in  the 
sensibility  of  our  sister  and  wife  and  child.  Therefore, 
since  the  perfection  of  manhood  means  neither  the 
ignoring  of  pain  nor  the  denying  of  it,  but  the  union  of 
absolute  recognition  with  absolute  mastery  of  its  fear- 
fulness,  Jesus,  on  the  approach  of  agony  and  shame, 
and  who  shall  say  what  besides,  yields  Himself 
beforehand  to  the  full  contemplation  of  His  lot.  He 
does  so,  while  neither  excited  by  the  trial,  nor  driven 
to  bay  by  the  scoffs  of  His  murderers,  but  in  solitude, 
in  the  dark,  with  stealthy  footsteps  approaching  through 
the  gloom. 

And  ever  since,  all  who  went  farthest  down  into  the 
dread  Valley,  and  on  whom  the  shadow  of  death  lay 
heaviest,  found  there  the  footsteps  of  its  conqueror. 
It  must  be  added  that  we  cannot  measure  the  keenness 
of  the  sensibility  thus  exposed  to  torture.  A  physical 
organization  and  a  spiritual  nature  fresh  from  the 
creative  hand,  undegraded  by  the  transmitted  heritage 
of  ages  of  artificial,  diseased  and  sinful  habit,  unblunted 
by  one  deviation  from  natural  ways,  undrugged  by  one 
excess,  was  surely  capable  of  a  range  of  feeling  as  vast 
in  anguish  as  in  delight. 

The  sceptic  supposes  that  a  torrent  of  emotion  swept 
our  Saviour  off  His  feet.     The  only  narratives  he  can 


398  GOSPEL  Of  ST,   MARK. 

go  upon  give  quite  the  opposite  impression.  He  is 
seen  to  fathom  all  that  depth  of  misery,  He  allows  the 
voice  of  nature  to  utter  all  the  bitter  earnestness  of  its 
reluctance,  yet  He  never  loses  self-control,  nor  wavers 
in  loyalty  to  His  Father,  nor  renounces  His  submis- 
sion to  the  Father's  will.  Nothing  in  the  scene  is 
more  astonishing  than  its  combination  of  emotion  with 
self-government.  Time  after  time  He  pauses,  gently 
and  lovingly  admonishes  others,  and  calmly  returns  to 
His  intense  and  anxious  vigil. 

Thus  He  has  won  the  only  perfect  victory.  With 
a  nature  so  responsive  to  emotion,  He  has  not  refused 
to  feel,  nor  abstracted  His  soul  from  suffering,  nor 
silenced  the  flesh  by  such  an  effort  as  when  we  shut  our 
ears  against  a  discord.  Jesus  sees  all,  confesses  that 
He  would  fain  escape,  but  resigns  Himself  to  God. 

In  the  face  of  all  asceticisms,  as  of  all  stoicisms, 
Gethsemane  is  the  eternal  protest  that  every  part  of 
human  nature  is  entitled  to  be  heard,  provided  that  the 
spirit  retains  the  arbitration  over  all. 

Hitherto  nothing  has  been  assumed  which  a  reason- 
able sceptic  can  deny.  Nor  should  such  a  reader  fail  to 
observe  the  astonishing  revelation  of  character  in  the 
narrative,  its  gentle  pathos,  its  intensity  beyond  what 
commonly  belongs  to  gentleness,  its  affection,  its  mas- 
tery over  the  disciples,  its  filial  submission.  Even  the 
rich  imaginative  way  of  thinking,  which  invented  the 
parables  and  sacraments,  is  in  the  word  '*  this  cup." 

But  if  the  story  of  Gethsemane  can  be  vindicated 
from  such  a  point  of  view,  what  shall  be  said  when  it 
is  viewed  as  the  Church  regards  it  ?  Both  Testaments 
declare  that  the  sufferings  of  the  Messiah  were  super- 
natural. In  the  Old  Testament  it  was  pleasing  to  tlie 
Father  to  bruise  Him.     The  terrible  cry  of  Jesus  to  a 


Mark  xiv.  34  42]  ^-^^  AGONY,  399 

God  who  had  forsaken  Him  is  conclusive  evidence  from 
the  New  Testament.  And  if  we  ask  what  such  a  cry 
may  mean,  we  find  that  He  is  a  curse  for  us,  and  made 
to  be  sin  for  us,  Who  knew  no  sin. 

If  the  older  theology  drew  incredible  conclusions 
from  such  words,  that  is  no  reason  why  we  should 
ignore  them.  It  is  incredible  that  God  was  angry  with 
His  Son,  or  that  in  any  sense  the  Omniscient  One 
confused  the  Saviour  with  the  sinful  world.  It  is  in- 
credible that  Jesus  ever  endured  estrangement  as  of 
lost  souls  from  the  One  Whom  in  Gethsemane  He 
called  Abba  Father,  and  in  the  hour  of  utter  darkness, 
My  God,  and  into  whose  Fatherly  hands  He  committed 
His  Spirit.  Yet  it  is  clear  that  He  is  being  treated 
otherwise  than  a  sinless  Being,  as  such,  ought  to 
expect.  His  natural  standing-place  is  exchanged  for 
ours.  And  as  our  exceeding  misery,  and  the  bitter 
curse  of  all  our  sin  fell  on  Him,  Who  bore  it  away  by 
bearing  it,  our  pollution  surely  affected  His  purity  as 
keenly  as  our  stripes  tried  His  sensibility.  He  shud- 
dered as  well  as  agonized.  The  deep  waters  in  which 
He  sank  were  defiled  as  well  as  cold.  Only  this  can 
explain  the  agony  and  bloody  sweat.  And  as  we,  for 
whom  He  endured  it,  think  of  this,  we  can  only  be 
silent  and  adore. 

Once  more,  Jesus  returns  to  His  disciples,  but  no 
longer  to  look  for  sympathy,  or  to  bid  them  watch  and 
pray.  The  time  for  such  warnings  is  now  past :  the 
crisis,  "  the  hour  "  is  come,  and  His  speech  is  sad  and 
solemn.  **  Sleep  on  now  and  take  your  rest,  it  is 
enough."  Had  the  sentence  stopped  there,  none  would 
ever  have  proposed  to  treat  it  as  a  question,  "Do  ye 
now  sleep  on  and  take  your  rest  ?  "  It  would  plainly 
have  mean^,   '^' Since   ye  refuse    My  counsel   and  will 


400  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 


none  of  my  reproof,  I  strive  no  further  to  arouse  the 
torpid  will,  the  inert  conscience,  the  inadequate  affec- 
tion.    Your  resistance  prevails  against  My  warning." 

Bvt  critics  fail  to  reconcile  this  with  what  follows, 
"  Arise,  let  us  be  going."  They  fail  through  supposing 
that  words  of  intense  emotion  must  be  interpreted  like 
a  syllogism  or  a  lawyer's  parchment 

"  For  My  part,  sleep  on ;  but  your  sleep  is  now  to 
be  rudely  broken :  take  your  rest  so  far  as  respect  for 
your  Master  should  have  kept  you  watchful ;  but  the 
traitor  is  at  hand  to  break  such  repose,  let  him  not 
find  you  ignobly  slumbering.  'Arise,  he  is  at  hand 
that  doth  betray  Me.'" 

This  is  not  sarcasm,  which  taunts  and  wounds. 
But  there  is  a  lofty  and  profound  irony  in  the  contrast 
between  their  attitude  and  their  circumstances,  their 
sleep  and  the  eagerness  of  the  traitor. 

And  so  they  lost  the  most  noble  opportunity  ever 
given  to  mortals,  not  through  blank  indifierence  nor 
unbelief,  but  by  allowing  the  flesh  to  overcome  the 
spirit.  And  thus  do  multitudes  lose  heaven,  sleeping 
until  the  golden  hours  are  gone,  and  He  who  said, 
"  Sleep  on  now,"  says,  "  He  that  is  unrighteous,  let 
him  be  unrighteous  still." 

Remembering  that  defilement  was  far  more  urgent 
than  pain  in  our  Saviour's  agony,  how  sad  is  the 
meaning  of  the  words,  "  the  Son  of  man  is  betrayed 
\nto  the  hands  of  sinners,"  and  even  of  "  the  sinners," 
the  representatives  of  all  the  evil  from  which  He  had 
kept  Himself  unspotted. 

The  one  perfect  flower  of  humanity  is  thrown  by 
treachery  into  the  polluted  and  polluting  grasp  of 
wickedness  in  its  many  forms ;  the  traitor  delivers  Him 
to  hirelings ;   the  hirelings   to   hypocrites ;   the  hypo- 


Mark  xiv.  43-52-1  "^^E  ARREST.  401 

crites  to  an  unjust  and  sceptical  pagan  judge  ;  the  judge 
to  his  brutal  soldiery ;  who  expose  Him  to  all  that 
malice  can  wreak  upon  the  most  sensitive  organization, 
or  ingratitude  upon  the  most  tender  heart. 

At  every  stage  an  outrage.  Every  outrage  an  appeal 
to  the  indignation  of  Him  who  held  them  in  the  hollow 
of  His  hand.  Surely  it  may  well  be  said,  Consider 
Him  who  endured  such  contradiction ;  and  endured  it 
from  sinners  against  Himself. 

THE  ARREST 

**And  straightway,  while  He  yet  spake,  cometh  Judas,  one  of  the 
twelve,  and  with  him  a  multitude  with  swords  and  staves,  from  the 
chief  priests  and  the  scribes  and  the  elders.  Now  he  that  betrayed 
Him  had  given  them  a  token,  saying,  Whomsoever  I  shall  kiss,  that  is 
He ;  take  Him,  and  lead  Him  away  safely.  And  when  he  was  come, 
straightway  he  came  to  Him,  and  saith,  Rabbi ;  and  kissed  Him.  And 
they  laid  hands  on  Him,  and  took  Him.  But  a  certain  one  of  them 
that  stood  by  drew  his  sword,  and  smote  the  servant  of  the  high  priest, 
and  struck  oif  his  ear.  And  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  them.  Are 
ye  come  out,  as  against  a  robber,  with  swords  and  staves  to  seize  Me  ? 
I  was  daily  with  you  in  the  temple  teaching,  and  ye  took  Me  not :  but 
this  is  done  that  the  scriptures  might  be  fulfilled.  And  they  all  left  Him 
and  fled.  And  a  certain  young  man  followed  with  Him,  having  a  linen 
cloth  cast  about  him,  over  his  naked  body  :  and  they  lay  hold  on  him ; 
but  he  left  the  linen  cloth,  and  fled  naked." — Mark  xiv.  43-52  (R.V.). 

St.  Mark  has  told  this  tragical  story  in  the  most 
pointed  and  the  fewest  words.  The  healing  of  the  ear 
of  Malchus  concerns  him  not,  that  is  bu  one  miracle 
among  many ;  and  Judas  passes  from  sight  unfollowed  : 
the  thought  insisted  on  is  of  foul  treason,  pitiable 
weakness,  brute  force  predominant,  majestic  remon- 
strance and  panic  flight.  From  the  central  events  no 
accessories  can  distract  him. 

There  cometh,  he  tells  us,  "Judas,  one  of  the  Twelve." 
Who  Judas  was,  we  knew  already,  but  we  are  to  con- 

26 


402  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

sider  how  Jesus  felt  it  now.  Before  His  eyes  is  the 
catastrophe  which  His  death  is  confronted  to  avert — 
the  death  of  a  soul,  a  chosen  and  richly  dowered  soul 
for  ever  lost — in  spite  of  so  many  warnings — in  spite 
of  that  incessant  denunciation  of  covetousness  which 
rings  through  so  much  of  His  teaching,  which  only  the 
presence  of  Judas  quite  explains,  and  which  His  terrible 
and  searching  gaze  must  have  made  like  fire,  to  sear 
since  it  could  not  melt — in.  spite  of  the  outspoken 
utterances  of  these  last  days,  and  doubtless  in  spite  of 
many  prayers,  he  is  lost :  one  of  the  Twelve. 

And  the  dark-  thought  would  fall  cold  upon  Christ's 
heart,  of  the  multitudes  more  who  should  receive  the 
grace  of  God,  His  own  dying  love,  in  vain.  And  with 
that,  the  recollection  of  many  an  hour  of  loving-kind- 
ness wasted  on  this  familiar  friend  in  whom  He  trusted, 
and  who  now  gave  Him  over,  as  he  had  been  expressly 
warned,  to  so  cruel  a  fate.  Even  toward  Judas,  no  un- 
worthy bitterness  could  pollute  that  sacred  heart,  the 
fountain  of  unfathomable  compassions,  but  what  speech- 
less grief  must  have  been  there,  what  inconceivable 
horror.  For  the  outrage  was  dark  in  form  as  in  essence. 
Judas  apparently  conceived  that  the  Eleven  might,  as 
they  had  promised,  rally  around  their  Lord ;  and  he 
could  have  no  perception  how  impossible  it  was  that 
Messiah  should  stoop  to  escape  under  cover  of  their 
devotion,  how  frankly  the  good  Shepherd  would  give 
His  hfe  for  the  sheep.  In  the  night,  he  thought,  eva- 
sion might  yet  be  attempted,  and  the  town  be  raised. 
But  he  knew  how  to  make  the  matter  sure.  No  other 
would  as  surely  as  himself  recognise  Jesus  in  the  un- 
certain Hght.  If  he  were  to  lay  hold  on  Him  rudely, 
the  Eleven  would  close  in,  and  in  the  struggle,  the 
prize  might  yet  be  lost.     But   approaching  a  little  in 


Mark  xiv.  43-52.]  THE  ARREST.  403 

advance,  and  peaceably,  he  would  ostentatiously  kiss 
his  Master,  and  so  clearly  point  Him  out  that  the  arrest 
would  be  accomplished  before  the  disciples  realized  what 
was  being  done. 

But  at  every  step  the  intrigue  is  overmastered  by 
the  clear  insight  of  Jesus.  As  He  foretold  the  time  of 
His  arrest,  while  yet  the  rulers  said,  Not  on  the  feast 
day,  so  He  announced  the  approach  of  the  traitor,  who 
was  then  contriving  the  last  momentary  deception  of 
his  polluting  kiss. 

We  have  already  seen  how  impossible  it  is  to  think 
of  Judas  otherwise  than  as  the  Church  has  always 
regarded  him,  an  apostate  and  a  traitor  in  the  darkest 
sense.  The  milder  theory  is  at  this  stage  shattered  by 
one  small  yet  significant  detail.  At  the  supper,  when 
conscious  of  being  suspected,  and  forced  to  speak,  he 
said  not,  like  the  others,  ''  Lord,"  but  "  Rabbi,  is  it  I  ?  " 
Now  they  meet  again,  and  the  same  word  is  on  his 
lips,  whether  by  design  and  in  Satanic  insolence,  or  in 
hysterical  agitation  and  uncertainty,  who  can  say  ? 

But  no  loyalty,  however  misled,  inspired  that  halt- 
ing and  inadequate  epithet,  no  wild  hope  of  a  sudden 
blazing  out  of  glories  too  long  concealed  is  breathed  in 
the  traitor's  Rabbi  1 

With  that  word,  and  his  envenomed  kiss,  the  *'  much 
kissing,"  which  took  care  that  Jesus  should  not  shake 
him  off,  he  passes  from  this  great  Gospel.  Not  a  word 
is  here  of  his  remorse,  or  of  the  dreadful  path  down 
which  he  stumbled  to  his  own  place.  Even  the  lofty 
remonstrance  of  the  Lord  is  not  recorded :  it  suffices 
to  have  told  how  he  betrayed  the  Son  of  man  with  a 
kiss,  and  so  infused  a  peculiar  and  subtle  poison  into 
Christ's  draught  of  deadly  wine.  That,  and  not  the 
punishment  of  that,  is  what  St.  Mark  recorded  for  the 


404  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK. 

Church,  the  awful  fall  of  an  apostle,  chosen  of  Christ  j 
the  solemn  warning  to  all  privileged  persons,  richly 
endowed  and  highly  placed ;  the  door  to  hell,  as  Bunyan 
has  it,  from  the  very  gate  of  Heaven. 

A  great  multitude  with  swords  and  staves  had  come 
from  the  rulers.  Possibly  some  attempt  at  rescue  was 
apprehended  from  the  Galileans  who  had  so  lately 
triumphed  around  Jesus.  More  probably  the  demon- 
stration was  planned  to  suggest  to  Pilate  that  a 
dangerous  political  agitation  had  to  be  confronted. 

At  all  events,  the  multitude  did  not  terrify  the  dis- 
ciples :  cries  arose  from  their  little  band,  '*  Lord  shall  we 
smite  with  the  sword  ?  "  and  if  Jesus  had  consented,  it 
seems  that  with  two  swords  the  Eleven  whom  declaimers 
make  to  be  so  craven,  would  have  assailed  the  multitude 
in  arms. 

Now  this  is  what  points  the  moral  of  their  failure. 
Few  of  us  would  confess  personal  cowardice  by  accept- 
ing a  warning  from  the  fears  of  the  fearful.  But  the 
fears  of  the  brave  must  needs  alarm  us.  It  is  one 
thing  to  defy  death,  sword  in  hand,  in  some  wild 
hour  of  chivalrous  effort — although  the  honours  we 
shower  upon  the  valiant  prove  that  even  such  fortitude 
is  less  common  than  we  would  fain  believe.  But  there 
is  a  deep  which  opens  beyond  this.  It  is  a  harder 
thing  to  endure  the  silent  passive  anguish  to  which  the 
Lamb,  dumb  before  the  shearers,  calls  His  followers. 
The  victories  of  the  spirit  are  beyond  animal  strength 
of  nerve.  In  their  highest  forms  they  are  beyond  the 
noble  reach  of  intellectual  resolution.  How  far  beyond 
it  we  may  learn  by  contrasting  the  excitement  and 
then  the  panic  of  the  Eleven  with  the  sublime  compo- 
sure of  their  Lord. 

One  of  them,    whom    we  know  to  have  been  the 


Mark  xiv.  43-52.]  THE  ARREST.  405 

impulsive  Simon,  showed  his  loss  of  self-control  by 
what  would  have  been  a  breach  of  discipline,  even  had 
resistance  been  intended.  While  others  asked  should 
they  smite  with  the  sword,  he  took  the  decision  upon 
himself,  and  struck  a  feeble  and  abortive  blow,  enough 
to  exasperate  but  not  to  disable.  In  so  doing  he 
added,  to  the  sorrows  of  Jesus,  disobedience,  and  the 
inflaming  of  angry  passion  among  His  captors. 

Strange  it  is,  and  instructive,  that  the  first  act  of 
violence  in  the  annals  of  Christianity  came  not  from 
her  assailants  but  from  her  son.  And  strange  to  think 
with  what  emotions  Jesus  must  have  beheld  that  blow. 

St.  Mark  records  neither  the  healing  of  Malchus  nor 
the  rebuke  of  Peter.  Throughout  the  events  which 
now  crowd  fast  upon  us,  we  shall  not  find  him  care- 
ful about  fulness  of  detail.  This  is  never  his  manner, 
though  he  loves  any  detail  which  is  graphic,  char- 
acteristic, or  intensifying.  But  his  concern  is  with  the 
spirit  of  the  Lord  and  of  His  enemies :  he  is  blind  to 
no  form  of  injustice  or  insult  which  heightened  the 
sufferings  of  Jesus,  to  no  manifestation  of  dignity  and 
self-control  overmastering  the  rage  of  hell.  If  He  is 
unjustly  tried  by  Caiaphas,  it  matters  nothing  that  Annas 
also  wronged  Him.  If  the  soldiers  of  Pilate  insulted 
Him,  it  matters  nothing  that  the  soldiers  of  Herod  also 
set  Him  at  nought.  Yet  the  flight  of  a  nameless 
youth  is  recorded,  since  it  adds  a  touch  to  the  picture 
of  His  abandonment. 

And  therefore  he  records  the  indignant  remonstrance 
of  Jesus  upon  the  manner  of  His  arrest.  He  was  no 
man  of  violence  and  blood,  to  be  arrested  with  a 
display  of  overwhelming  force.  He  needed  not  to  be 
sought  in  concealment  and  at  midnight. 

He  had  spoken  daily  in  the  temple,  but  then  their 


4o6  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

malice  was  defeated,  their  snares  rent  asunder,  and 
the  people  witnessed  their  exposure.  But  all  this  was 
part  of  His  predicted  suffering,  for  Whom  not  only  pain 
but  injustice  was  foretold,  Who  should  be  taken  from 
prison  and  from  judgment. 

It  was  a  lofty  remonstrance.  It  showed  how  little 
could  danger  and  betrayal  disturb  His  consciousness, 
and  how  clearly  He  discerned  the  calculation  of  His 
foes. 

At  this  moment  of  unmistakable  surrender,  His 
disciples  forsook  Him  and  fled.  One  young  man  did 
indeed  follow  Him,  springing  hastily  from  slumber  in 
some  adjacent  cottage,  and  wrapped  only  in  a  linen 
cloth.  But  he  too,  when  seized,  fled  away,  leaving  his 
only  covering  in  the  hands  of  the  soldiers. 

This  youth  may  perhaps  have  been  the  Evangelist 
himself,  of  whom  we  know  that,  a  few  years  later,  he 
joined  Paul  and  Barnabas  at  the  outset,  but  forsook 
them  when  their  journey  became  perilous. 

It  is  at  least  as  probable  that  the  incident  is  recorded 
as  a  picturesque  climax  to  that  utter  panic  which  left 
Jesus  to  tread  the  winepress  alone,  deserted  by  all, 
though  He  never  forsook  any. 


BEFORE   CAIAPHAS, 

**And  they  led  Jesus  away  to  the  high  priest:  and  there  come 
together  with  him  all  the  chief  priests  and  the  elders  and  the  scribes. 
And  Peter  had  followed  Him  afar  off,  even  within,  into  the  court  of  the 
high  priest ;  and  he  was  sitting  with  the  officers,  and  warming  himself  in 
the  light  of  the  fire.  Now  the  chief  priests  and  the  whole  council  sought 
witness  against  Jesus  to  put  Him  to  death  ;  and  found  it  not.  P^or 
many  bare  false  witness  against  Him,  and  their  witness  agreed  not 
together.  And  there  stood  up  certain,  and  bare  false  witness  against 
Him,  saying,  We  heard  Him  say,  I  will  destroy  this  temple  that  is 
9iade  with  hands,  and  in  three  days  I  will  build  another  made  without 


Mark  xiv.  53-65']  BEFORE  CAIAPHAS.  407 

hands.  And  not  even  so  did  their  witness  agree  together.  And  the 
high  priest  stood  up  in  the  midst,  and  asked  Jesus,  saying,  Answerest 
Thou  nothing  ?  what  is  it  which  these  witness  against  Thee  ?  But  He 
held  His  peace  and  answered  nothing.  Again  the  high  priest  asked 
Him,  and  saith  unto  Him,  Art  Thou  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  Blessed  ? 
And  Jesus  said,  I  am  :  and  ye  shall  see  the  Son  of  man  sitting  at  the 
right  hand  of  power,  and  coming  with  the  clouds  of  heaven.  And  the 
high  priest  rent  his  clothes,  and  saith,  What  further  need  have  we  of 
witnesses  ?  Ye  have  heard  the  blasphemy  :  what  think  ye  ?  And  they 
all  condemned  Him  to  be  worthy  of  death.  And  some  began  to  spit 
on  Him,  and  to  cover  His  face,  and  to  buffet  Him,  and  to  say  unto 
Him,  Prophesy :  and  the  officers  received  Him  with  blows  of  their 
hands  "—Mark  xiv.  53-65  (R.V.). 

We  have  now  to  see  the  Judge  of  quick  and  dead 
taken  from  prison  and  judgment,  the  Preacher  of 
Uberty  to  the  captives  bound,  and  the  Prince  of  Life 
killed.  It  is  the  most  solemn  page  in  earthly  story  ; 
and  as  we  read  St.  Mark's  account,  it  will  concern  us 
less  to  reconcile  his  statements  with  those  of  the  other 
three,  than  to  see  what  is  taught  us  by  his  especial 
manner  of  regarding  it.  ReconciUation,  indeed,  is  quite 
unnecessary,  if  we  bear  in  mind  that  to  omit  a  fact  is 
not  to  contradict  it.  For  St.  Mark  is  not  writing  a 
history  but  a  Gospel,  and  his  readers  are  Gentiles,  for 
whom  the  details  of  Hebrew  intrigue  matter  nothing, 
and  the  trial  before  a  Galilean  Tetrarch  would  be  only 
half  intelligible. 

St.  John,  who  had  been  an  eye-witness,  knew  that 
the  private  inquiry  before  Annas  was  vital,  for  there 
the  decision  was  taken  which  subsequent  and  more 
formal  assemblies  did  but  ratify.  He  therefore,  writing 
last,  threw  this  ray  of  explanatory  light  over  all  that 
the  others  had  related.  St.  Luke  recorded  in  the  Acts 
(iv.  27)  that  the  apostles  recognised,  in  the  consent 
of  Romans  and  Jews,  and  of  Herod  and  Pilate,  what 
the  Psalmist  had  long  foretold,  the  rage  of  the  heathen 


4o8  GOSPEL   OF  ST.    MARK. 

and  the  vain  imagination  of  the  peoples,  and  the  con- 
junction of  kings  and  rulers.  His  Gospel  therefore 
lays  stress  upon  the  part  played  by  all  of  these.  And 
St.  Matthew's  readers  could  appreciate  every  fulfil- 
ment of  prophecy,  and  every  touch  of  local  colour. 
St.  Mark  offers  to  us  the  essential  points  :  rejection 
and  cruelty  by  His  countrymen,  rejection  and  cruelty 
over  again  by  Rome,  and  the  dignity,  the  elevation,  the 
lofty  silence  and  the  dauntless  testimony  of  his  Lord. 
As  we  read,  we  are  conscious  of  the  weakness  of  His 
crafty  foes,  who  are  helpless  and  baffled,  and  have  no 
resort  except  to  abandon  their  charges  and  appeal  to 
His  own  truthfulness  to  destroy  Him. 

He  shows  us  first  the  informal  assembly  before 
Caiaphas,  whither  Annas  sent  Him  with  that  sufiicient 
sign  of  his  own  judgment,  the  binding  of  His  hands, 
and  the  first  buffet,  inflicted  by  an  officer,  upon  His 
holy  face.  It  was  not  yet  daylight,  and  a  formal 
assembly  of  the  Sanhedrim  was  impossible.  But  what 
passed  now  was  so  complete  a  rehearsal  of  the  tragedy, 
that  the  regular  meeting  could  be  disposed  of  in  a 
single  verse. 

There  was  confusion  and  distress  among  the  con- 
spirators. It  was  not  their  intention  to  have  arrested 
Jesus  on  the  feast  day,  at  the  risk  of  an  uproar 
among  the  people.  But  He  had  driven  them  to  do  so 
by  the  expulsion  of  their  spy,  who,  if  they  delayed 
longer,  would  be  unable  to  guide  their  officers.  And 
so  they  found  themselves  without  evidence,  and  had 
to  play  the  part  of  prosecutors  when  they  ought  to 
be  impartial  judges.  There  is  something  frightful  in 
the  spectacle  of  these  chiefs  of  the  religion  of  Jehovah 
suborning  perjury  as  the  way  to  murder ;  and  it 
reminds  ^'s  of  the  solemn  truth,  that  no  wickedness  is 


Mark  xiv.  53-65.]  BEFORE   CAIAFHAS.  409 

SO  perfect  and  heartless  as  that  upon  which  sacred 
influences  have  long  been  vainly  operating,  no  cor- 
ruption so  hateful  as  that  of  a  dead  religion.  Presently 
they  would  cause  the  name  of  God  to  be  blasphemed 
among  the  heathen,  by  bribing  the  Roman  guards  to 
lie  about  the  corpse.  And  the  heart  of  Jesus  was 
tried  by  the  disgraceful  spectacle  of  many  false 
witnesses,  found  in  turn  and  paraded  against  Him, 
but  unable  to  agree  upon  any  consistent  charge,  while 
yet  the  shameless  proceedings  were  not  discontinued. 
At  the  last  stood  up  witnesses  to  pervert  what  He  had 
spoken  at  the  first  cleansing  of  the  temple,  which  the 
second  cleansing  had  so  lately  recalled  to  mind.  They 
represented  Him  as  saying,  "  I  am  able  to  destroy  this 
temple  made  with  hands," — or  perhaps,  "I  will 
destroy  "  it,  for  their  testimony  varied  on  this  grave 
point — "and  in  three  days  I  will  build  another  made 
without  hands."  It  was  for  blaspheming  the  Holy 
Place  that  Stephen  died,  and  the  charge  was  a  grave 
one ;  but  His  words  were  impudently  manipulated  to 
justify  it.  There  had  been  no  proposal  to  substitute 
a  different  temple,  and  no  mention  of  the  temple  made 
with  hands.  Nor  had  Jesus  ever  proposed  to  destroy 
anything.  He  had  spoken  of  their  destroying  the 
Temple  of  His  Body,  and  in  the  use  they  made  of 
the  prediction  they  fulfilled  it. 

As  we  read  of  these  repeated  failures  before  a  tribunal 
so  unjust,  we  are  led  to  suppose  that  opposition  must 
have  sprung  up  to  disconcert  them ;  we  remember  the 
councillor  of  honourable  estate,  who  had  not  consented 
to  their  counsel  and  deed,  and  we  think,  What  if,  even 
in  that  hour  of  evil,  one  voice  was  uplifted  for  right- 
eousness ?  What  if  Joseph  confessed  Him  in  the 
conclave,  like  the  penitent  thief  upon  the  cross  ? 


4I«  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK. 

And  now  the  high  priest,  enraged  and  alarmed  by 
imminent  failure,  rises  in  the  midst,  and  in  the  face  of 
all  law  cross-questions  the  prisoner,  Answerest  Thou 
nothing?  What  is  it  which  these  witness  against 
Thee  ?  But  Jesus  will  not  become  their  accomplice ; 
He  maintains  the  silence  which  contrasts  so  nobly  with 
their  excitement,  which  at  once  sees  through  their 
schemes  and  leaves  them  to  fall  asunder.  And  the 
urgency  of  the  occasion,  since  hesitation  now  will  give 
the  city  time  to  rise,  drives  them  to  a  desperate  ex- 
pedient. Without  discussion  of  His  claims,  without 
considering  that  some  day  there  must  be  some  Messiah, 
(else  what  is  their  faith  and  who  are  they  ?)  they  will 
treat  it  as  blasphemous  and  a  capital  offence  simply 
to  claim  that  title.  Caiaphas  adjures  Him  by  their 
common  God  to  answer.  Art  thou  the  Christ,  the  Son 
of  the  Blessed  ?  So  then  they  were  not  utterly  ignor- 
ant of  the  higher  nature  of  the  Son  of  David :  they 
remembered  the  words,  Thou  art  My  Son,  this  day 
have  I  begotten  Thee.  But  the  only  use  they  ever 
made  of  their  knowledge  was  to  heighten  to  the  utter- 
most the  Messianic  dignity  which  they  would  make  it 
death  to  claim.  And  the  prisoner  knew  well  the  con- 
sequences of  replying.  But  He  had  come  into  the 
world  to  bear  witness  to  the  truth,  and  this  was  the 
central  truth  of  all.  "  And  Jesus  said,  I  am."  Now 
Renan  tells  us  that  He  was  the  greatest  religious 
genius  who  ever  lived,  or  probably  ever  shall  live. 
Mill  tells  us  that  religion  cannot  be  said  to  have  made 
a  bad  choice  in  pitching  on  this  Man  as  the  ideal  repre- 
sentative and  guide  of  humanity.  And  Strauss  thinks 
that  we  know  enough  of  Him  to  assert  that  His  con- 
sciousness was  unclouded  by  the  memory  of  any  sin. 
Well  then,  if  anything  in  the  life  of  Jesus  is  beyond 


Mark  xiv.  53-65]         BEFORE  CAIAPHAS.  417 

controversy,  it  is  this,  that  the  sinless  Man,  our  ideal 
representative  and  guide,  the  greatest  religious  genius 
of  the  race,  died  for  asserting  upon  oath  that  He  was 
the  Son  of  God.  A  good  deal  has  been  said  lately, 
both  wise  and  foolish,  about  Comparative  Religion :  is 
there  anything  to  compare  with  this  ?  Lunatics,  with 
this  example  before  their  eyes,  have  conceived  wild  and 
dreadful  infatuations.  But  these  are  the  words  of  Him 
whose  character  has  dominated  nineteen  centuries, 
and  changed  the  history  of  the  world.  And  they  stand 
alone  in  the  records  of  mankind. 

As  Jesus  spoke  the  fatal  words,  as  malice  and  hatred 
lighted  the  faces  of  His  wicked  judges  with  a  base  and 
ignoble  joy,  what  was  His  own  thought?  We  know 
it  by  the  warning  that  He  added.  They  supposed 
themselves  judges  and  irresponsible,  but  there  should 
yet  be  another  tribunal,  with  justice  of  a  far  different 
kind,  and  there  they  should  occupy  another  place. 
For  all  that  was  passing  before  His  eyes,  so  false, 
hypocritical  and  murderous,  there  was  no  lasting 
victory,  no  impunity,  no  escape  :  "Ye  shall  see  the 
Son  of  man  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  power  and 
coming  with  the  clouds  of  heaven."  Therefore  His 
apostle  Peter  tells  us  that  in  this  hour,  when  He  was 
reviled  and  reviled  not  again,  **  He  committed  Himself 
to  Him  that  judgeth  righteously"  (i  Peter  ii.  23). 

He  had  now  quoted  that  great  vision  in  which  the 
prophet  Daniel  saw  Him  brought  near  unto  the 
Ancient  of  Days,  and  invested  with  an  everlasting 
dominion  (Dan.  vii.  13,  14.)  But  St.  Matthew  adds  one 
memorable  word.  He  did  not  warn  them,  and  He  was 
not  Himself  sustained,  only  by  the  mention  of  a  far-oft 
judgment :  He  said  they  should  behold  Him  thus 
''henceforth."     And  that  very  day  they  saw  the  veil  of 


412  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

their  temple  rent,  felt  the  world  convulsed,  and  re- 
membered in  their  terror  that  He  had  foretold  His  own 
death  and  His  resurrection,  against  which  they  had 
still  to  guard.  And  in  the  open  sepulchre,  and  the 
supernatural  vision  told  them  by  its  keepers,  in  great 
and  notable  miracles  wrought  by  the  name  of  Jesus,  in 
the  desertion  of  a  great  multitude  even  of  priests,  and 
their  own  fear  to  be  found  fighting  against  God>  in  all 
this  the  rise  of  that  new  power  was  thenceforth  plainly 
visible,  which  was  presently  to  bury  them  and  their 
children  under  the  ruins  of  their  temple  and  their 
palaces.  But  for  the  moment  the  high-priest  was  only 
relieved ;  and  he  proceeded,  rending  his  clothes,  to 
announce  his  judgment,  before  consulting  the  court,  who 
had  no  further  need  of  witnesses,  and  were  quite  content 
to  become  formally  the  accusers  before  themselves.  The 
sentence  of  this  irregular  and  informal  court  was  now 
pronounced,  to  fit  them  for  bearing  part,  at  sunrise,  in 
what  should  be  an  unbiassed  trial ;  and  while  they 
awaited  the  dawn  Jesus  was  abandoned  to  the  brutality 
of  their  servants,  one  of  whom  He  had  healed  that  very 
night.  They  spat  on  the  Lord  of  Glory.  They  covered 
His  face,  an  act  which  was  the  symbol  of  a  death  sen- 
tence (Esther  vii.  8),  and  then  they  buffeted  Him,  and 
invited  Him  to  prophesy  who  smote  Him.  And  the 
officers  '*  received  Him  "  with  blows. 

What  was  the  meaning  of  this  outburst  of  savage 
cruelty  of  men  whom  Jesus  had  never  wronged,  and 
some  of  whose  friends  must  have  shared  His  super- 
human gifts  of  love  ?  Partly  it  was  the  instinct  of  low 
natures  to  trample  on  the  fallen,  and  partly  the  result 
of  partizanship.  For  these  servants  of  the  priests  must 
have  seen  many  evidences  of  the  hate  and  dread  with 
which  their  masters  regarded  Jesus.     But  there  was 


Mark  xiv.  66-72.]       THE  FALL  OF  PETER,  413 

doubtless  another  motive.  Not  without  fear,  we  may 
be  certain,  had  they  gone  forth  to  arrest  at  midnight  the 
Personage  of  whom  so  many  miraculous  tales  were 
universally  believed.  They  must  have  remembered 
the  captains  of  fifty  whom  Elijah  consumed  with  fire. 
And  in  fact  there  was  a  moment  when  they  all  fell 
prostrate  before  His  majestic  presence.  But  now  their 
terror  was  at  an  end  :  He  was  helpless  in  their  hands ; 
and  they  revenged  their  fears  upon  the  Author  of  them. 
Thus  Jesus  suffered  shame  to  make  us  partakers  of 
His  glory ;  and  the  veil  of  death  covered  His  head, 
that  He  might  destroy  the  face  of  the  covering  cast 
over  all  peoples,  and  the  veil  that  was  spread  over  all 
nations.  And  even  in  this  moment  of  bitterest  outrage 
He  remembered  and  rescued  a  soul  in  the  extreme  of 
jeopardy,  for  it  was  now  that  the  Lord  turned  and 
looked  upon  Peter. 


THE  FALL  OF  PETER, 

*'  And  as  Peter  was  beneath  in  the  court,  there  cometh  one  of  the 
maids  of  the  high  priest ;  and  seeing  Peter  warming  himself,  she  looked 
upon  him,  and  saith.  Thou  also  wast  with  the  Nazarene,  even  Jesus. 
But  he  denied,  saying,  I  neither  know,  nor  understand  what  thou 
sayest :  and  he  went  out  into  the  porch  ;  and  the  cock  crew.  And  the 
maid  saw  him,  and  began  again  to  say  to  them  that  stood  by,  This  is 
one  of  them.  But  he  again  denied  it.  And  after  a  little  while  again 
they  that  stood  by  said  to  Peter,  Of  a  truth  thou  art  one  of  them  ;  for 
thou  art  a  Galilsean.  But  he  began  to  curse,  and  to  swear,  I  know  not 
this  man  of  whom  ye  speak.  And  straightway  the  second  time  the 
cock  crew.  And  Peter  called  to  mind  the  word,  how  that  Jesus  said 
unto  him,  Before  the  cock  crow  twice,  thou  shalt  deny  Me  thrice.  And 
when  he  thought  thereon,  he  wept " — Mark  xiv.  66-72  (R.  V.). 

The  fall  of  Peter  has  called  forth  the  easy  scorn  of 
multitudes  who  never  ran  any  risk  for  Christ.  But  if 
he  had   been   a  coward,  and   his   denial   a   dastardly 


414  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  MARK, 

weakness,  it  would  not  be  a  warning  for  the  whole 
Church,  but  only  for  feeble  natures.  Whereas  the 
lesson  which  it  proclaims  is  this  deep  and  solemn  one, 
that  no  natural  endowments  can  bear  the  strain  of  the 
spiritual  life.  Peter  had  dared  to  smite  when  only  two 
swords  were  forthcoming  against  the  band  of  Roman 
soldiers  and  the  multitude  from  the  chief  priests.  After 
the  panic  in  which  all  forsook  Jesus,  and  so  fulfilled 
the  prediction  "  ye  shall  leave  Me  alone,"  none  ventured 
so  far  as  Peter.  John  indeed  accompanied  him ;  but 
John  ran  little  risk,  he  had  influence  and  was  therefore 
left  unassailed,  whereas  Peter  was  friendless  and  a 
mark  for  all  men,  and  had  made  himself  conspicuous 
in  the  garden.  Of  those  who  declaim  about  his  want 
of  courage  few  indeed  would  have  dared  so  much. 
And  whoever  misunderstands  him,  Jesus  did  not.  He 
said  to  him,  "  Satan  hath  desired  to  have  you  (all)  that 
he  may  sift  you  like  wheat,  but  I  have  prayed  for  thee 
(especially)  that  thy  strength  fail  not."  Around  him 
the  fiercest  of  the  struggle  was  to  rage,  as  around  some 
point  of  vantage  on  a  battlefield  ;  and  it  was  he,  when 
once  he  had  turned  again,  who  should  stablish  his 
brethren  (Luke  xxii.  31,  32). 

God  forbid  that  we  should  speak  one  light  or  scornful 
word  of  this  great  apostle  I  God  grant  us,  if  our  foot- 
steps slip,  the  heart  to  weep  such  tears  as  his. 

Peter  was  a  loving,  brave  and  loyal  man.  But  the 
circumstances  were  not  such  as  human  bravery  could 
deal  with.  Resistance,  which  would  have  kindled  his 
spirit,  had  been  forbidden  to  him,  and  was  now  im- 
possible. The  public  was  shut  out,  and  he  was  practi- 
cally alone  among  his  enemies.  He  had  come  "  to  see 
the  end,"  and  it  was  a  miserable  sight  that  he  beheld. 
Jesus  was   passive,  silent,    insulted :   His   foes  fierce, 


Mark  xiv.  66-72.]      THE  FALL   OF  PETER.  415 

unscrupulous  and  confident.  And  Peter  was  more 
and  more  conscious  of  being  alone,  in  peril,  and  utterly 
without  resource.  Rforeover  sleeplessness  and  misery 
lead  to  physical  languor  and  cold,*  and  as  the  officers 
had  kindled  a  fire,  he  was  drawn  thither,  like  a  -noth, 
by  the  double  wish  to  avoid  isolation  and  to  warm 
himself.  In  thus  seeking  to  pass  for  one  of  the  crowd, 
he  showed  himself  ashamed  of  Jesus,  and  incurred  the 
menaced  penalty,  "  of  him  shall  the  Son  of  man  be 
ashamed,  when  He  cometh."  And  the  method  of  self- 
concealment  which  he  adopted  only  showed  his  face, 
strongly  illuminated,  as  St.  Mark  tells  us,  by  the  flame. 
If  now  we  ask  for  the  secret  of  his  failing  resolution, 
we  can  trace  the  disease  far  back.  It  was  self-confi- 
dence. He  reckoned  himself  the  one  to  walk  upon  the 
waters.  He  could  not  be  silent  on  the  holy  mount, 
when  Jesus  held  high  communion  with  the  inhabitants 
of  heaven.  He  rebuked  the  Lord  for  dark  forebodings. 
When  Jesus  would  wash  his  feet,  although  expressly 
told  that  he  should  understand  the  act  hereafter,  he 
rejoined.  Thou  shalt  never  wash  my  feet,  and  was 
only  sobered  by  the  peremptory  announcement  that 
further  rebellion  would  involve  rejection.  He  was  sure 
that  if  all  the  rest  were  to  deny  Jesus,  he  never  should 
deny  Him.  In  the  garden  he  slept,  because  he  failed 
to  pray  and  watch.  And  then  he  did  not  wait  to  be 
directed,  but  strove  to  fight  the  battle  of  Jesus  with  the 
weapons  of  the  flesh.  Therefore  he  forsook  Him  and 
fled.  And  the  consequences  of  that  hasty  blow  were 
heavy  upon  him  now.  It  marked  him  for  the  atten- 
tion of  the  servants  :  it  drove  him  to  merge  himseli 
in  the  crowd.      But  his  bearing  was  too  suspicious  to 

•  "  By  the  fire  the  children  sit 
Cold  in  that  atmosphere  of  death." — In  Memoriamt  zs. 


4i6  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

enable  him  to  escape  unquestioned.  The  first  assault 
came  very  naturally,  from  the  maid  who  kept  the  door, 
and  had  therefore  seen  him  with  John.  He  denied 
indeed,  but  with  hesitation,  not  so  much  affirming  that 
the  charge  was  false  as  that  he  could  not  understand  it. 
And  thereupon  he  changed  his  place,  either  to  escape 
notice  or  through  mental  disquietude ;  but  as  he  went 
into  the  porch  the  cock  crew.  The  girl  however  was 
not  to  be  shaken  off :  she  pointed  him  out  to  others, 
and  since  he  had  forsaken  the  only  solid  ground,  he 
now  denied  the  charge  angrily  and  roundly.  An  hour 
passed,  such  an  hour  of  shame,  perplexity  and  guilt,  as 
he  had  never  known,  and  then  there  came  a  still  more 
dangerous  attack.  They  had  detected  his  Galilean 
accent,  while  he  strove  to  pass  for  one  of  them.  And 
a  kinsman  of  Malchus  used  words  as  threatening  as 
were  possible  without  enabhng  a  miracle  to  be  proved, 
since  the  wound  had  vanished :  "  Did  I  myself  not  see 
thee  in  the  garden  with  Him  ?  "  Whereupon,  to  prove 
that  his  speech  had  nothing  to  do  with  Jesus,  he  began 
to  curse  and  swear,  saying,  I  know  not  the  man.  And 
the  cock  crew  a  second  time,  and  Peter  remembered 
the  warning  of  his  Lord,  which  then  sounded  so  harsh, 
but  now  proved  to  be  the  means  of  his  salvation.  And 
the  eyes  of  his  Master,  full  of  sorrow  and  resolution, 
fell  on  him.  And  he  knew  that  he  had  added  a  bitter 
pang  to  the  sufferings  of  the  Blessed  One.  And  the 
crowd  and  his  own  danger  were  forgotten,  and  he  went 
out  aiid  wept. 

It  was  for  Judas  to  strive  desperately  to  put  himself 
right  with  man  :  the  sorrow  of  Peter  was  for  himself 
and  God  to  know. 

What  lessons  ar  2  we  taught  by  this  most  natural  and 
humbling  story  ?     That  he  who  thinketh  he  standeth 


Mark xiv.  66- 72. J       THE  FALL   OF  PETER,  417 

must  take  heed  lest  he  fall.  That  we  are  in  most  danger 
when  self-confident,  and  only  strong  when  we  are  weak. 
That  the  beginning  of  sin  is  like  the  letting  out  of 
water.  That  Jesus  does  not  give  us  up  when  we  cast 
ourselves  away,  but  as  long  as  a  pulse  of  love  survives, 
or  a  spark  of  loyalty,  He  will  appeal  to  that  by  many  a 
subtle  suggestion  of  memory  and  of  providence,  to  re- 
call His  wanderer  to  Himself. 

And  surely  we  learn  by  the  fall  of  this  great  and 
good  apostle  to  restore  the  fallen  in  the  spirit  of  meek- 
ness, considering  ourselves  lest  we  also  be  tempted,  re- 
membering also  that  to  Peter,  Jesus  sent  the  first  tidings 
of  His  resurrection,  and  that  the  message  found  him 
in  company  with  John,  and  therefore  in  the  house  with 
Mary.  What  might  have  been  the  issue  of  his  an* 
guish  if  these  holy  ones  had  <iast  Him  off? 


CHAPTER    XV. 

PILATE, 

•  And  straightway  in  the  morning  the  chief  priests  with  the  elders  and 
scribes,  and  the  whole  council,  held  a  consultation,  and  bound  Jesus, 
and  carried  Him  away,  and  delivered  Him  up  to  Pilate." 

"...  And  they  lead  Him  out  to  crucify  Him." — Mark  xv.  1-20 
(R.V.). 

WITH  morning  came  the  formal  assembly,  which 
St.  Mark  dismisses  in  a  single  verse.  It  was 
indeed  a  disgraceful  mockery.  Before  the  trial  began 
its  members  had  prejudged  the  case,  passed  sentence 
by  anticipation,  and  abandoned  Jesus,  as  one  condemned, 
to  the  brutality  of  their  servants.  And  now  the  spec- 
tacle of  a  prisoner  outraged  and  maltreated  moves  no 
indignation  in  their  hearts. 

Let  us,  for  whom  His  sufferings  were  endured,  reflect 
upon  the  strain  and  anguish  of  all  these  repeated  ex- 
aminations, these  foregone  conclusions  gravely  adopted 
in  the  name  of  justice,  these  exhibitions  of  greed  for 
blood.  Among  the  "unknown  sufferings"  by  which 
the  Eastern  Church  invokes  her  Lord,  surely  not  the 
least  was  His  outraged  moral  sense. 

As  the  issue  of  it  all,  they  led  Him  away  to  Pilate, 
meaning,  by  the  weight  of  such  an  accusing  array,  to 
overpower  any  possible  scruples  of  the  governor,  but  in 
fact  fulfilling  His  words,  "  they  shall  deliver  Him  unto 
the  Gentiles."  And  the  first  question  recorded  by  St. 
Mark  expresses  the  intense  surprise  of  Pilate.    "  Tbou,^ 


Markxv.  I-20.]  PILATE.  419 

SO  meek,  so  unlike  the  numberless  conspirators  that  I 
have  tried, — or  perhaps,  "  Thou,"  Whom  no  sympathis- 
ing multitude  sustains,  and  for  Whose  death  the  disloyal 
priesthood  thirsts,  "  Art  Thou  the  King  of  the  Jews  ?  " 
We  know  how  carefully  Jesus  disentangled  His  claim  from 
the  political  associations  which  the  high  priests  intended 
that  it  should  suggest,  how  the  King  of  Truth  would 
not  exaggerate  any  more  than  understate  the  case,  and 
explained  that  His  kingdom  was  not  of  this  world,  that 
His  servants  did  not  fight,  that  His  royal  function  was 
to  uphold  the  truth,  not  to  expel  conquerors.  The  eyes 
of  a  practised  Roman  governor  saw  through  the  accusa- 
tion very  clearly.  Before  him,  Jesus  was  accused  of 
sedition,  but  that  was  a  transparent  pretext ;  Jews  did 
not  hate  Him  for  enmity  to  Rome  :  He  was  a  rival 
teacher  and  a  successful  one,  and  for  envy  they  had 
delivered  Him.  So  far  all  was  well.  Pilate  investi- 
gated the  charge,  arrived  at  the  correct  judgment,  and 
it  only  remained  that  he  should  release  the  innocent 
man.  In  reaching  this  conclusion  Jesus  had  given  him 
the  most  prudent  and  skilful  help,  but  as  soon  as  the 
facts  became  clear,  He  resumed  His  impressive  and 
mysterious  silence.  Thus,  before  each  of  his  judges  in 
turn,  Jesus  avowed  Himself  the  Messiah  and  then  held 
His  peace.  It  was  an  awful  silence,  which  would  not 
give  that  which  was  holy  to  the  dogs,  nor  profane  the 
truth  by  unavailing  protests  or  controversies.  It  was, 
however,  a  silence  only  possible  to  an  exalted  nature 
full  of  self-control,  since  the  words  actually  spoken 
redeem  it  from  any  suspicion  or  stain  of  suUenness. 
It  is  the  conscience  of  Pilate  which  must  henceforth 
speak.  The  Romans  were  the  lawgivers  of  the  ancient 
world,  and  a  few  years  earlier  their  greatest  poet  had 
boasted  that  their  mission  was  to  spare  the  helpless 


420  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK. 

and  to  crush  the  proud.  In  no  man  was  an  act  of 
deHberate  injustice,  of  complaisance  to  the  powerful  at 
the  cost  of  the  good,  more  unpardonable  than  in  a 
leader  of  that  splendid  race,  whose  laws  are  still  the 
favourite  study  of  those  who  frame  and  administer  our 
ow^n.  And  the  conscience  of  Pilate  struggled  hard, 
aided  by  superstitious  fear.  The  very  silence  of  Jesus 
amid  many  charges,  by  none  of  which  His  accusers 
would  stand  or  fall,  excited  the  wonder  of  His  judge. 
His  wife's  dream  aided  the  effect.  And  he  was  still 
more  afraid  when  he  heard  that  this  strange  and  elevated 
Personage,  so  unlike  any  other  prisoner  whom  he  had 
ever  tried,  laid  claim  to  be  Divine.  Thus  even  in  his 
desire  to  save  Jesus,  his  motive  was  not  pure,  it  was 
rather  an  instinct  of  self-preservation  than  a  sense  of 
justice.  But  there  was  danger  on  the  other  side  as 
well ;  since  he  had  already  incurred  the  imperial  cen- 
sure, he  could  not  without  grave  apprehensions  contem- 
plate a  fresh  complaint,  and  would  certainly  be  ruined 
if  he  were  accused  of  releasing  a  conspirator  against 
Caesar.  And  accordingly  he  stooped  to  mean  and 
crooked  ways,  he  lost  hold  of  the  only  clue  in  the  per- 
plexing labyrinth  of  expediencies,  which  is  principle, 
and  his  name  in  the  creed  of  Christendom  is  spoken 
with  a  shudder — "  crucified  under  Pontius  Pilate  !  " 

It  was  the  time  for  him  to  release  a  prisoner  to  them, 
according  to  an  obscure  custom,  which  some  suppose 
to  have  sprung  from  the  release  of  one  of  the  two 
sacrificial  goats,  and  others  from  the  fact  that  they  now 
celebrated  their  own  deliverance  from  Egypt.  At 
this  moment  the  people  began  to  demand  their  usual 
indulgence,  and  an  evil  hope  arose  in  the  heart  ol 
Pilate.  They  would  surely  welcome  One  who  was  in 
danger  as  a  patriot :  he  would  himself  make  the  offer , 


N.  i rl.  xt   I -20.]  P/LA  TE.  431 

and  he  would  put  it  in  this  tempting  form,  "  Will  ye 
that  I  release  unto  you  the  King  of  the  Jews  ?  "  Thus 
would  the  enmity  of  the  priests  be  gratified,  since 
Jesus  would  henceforth  be  a  condemned  culprit,  and 
owe  His  life  to  their  intercession  with  the  foreigner. 
But  the  proposal  was  a  surrender.  The  life  of  Jesus 
had  not  been  forfeited;  and  when  it  was  placed  at 
their  discretion,  it  was  already  lawlessly  taken  away. 
Moreover,  when  the  offer  was  rejected,  Jesus  was  in 
the  place  of  a  culprit  who  should  not  be  released.  To 
the  priests,  nevertheless,  it  was  a  dangerous  proposal, 
and  they  needed  to  stir  up  the  people,  or  perhaps 
Barabbas  would  not  have  been  preferred. 

Instigated  by  their  natural  guides,  their  religious 
teachers,  the  Jews  made  the  tremendous  choice,  which 
has  ever  since  been  heavy  on  their  heads  and  on  their 
children's.  Yet  if  ever  an  error  could  be  excused  by 
the  plea  of  authority,  and  the  duty  of  submission  to 
constituted  leaders,  it  was  this  error.  They  followed 
men  who  sat  in  Moses'  seat,  and  who  were  thus  entitled, 
according  to  Jesus  Himself,  to  be  obeyed.  Yet  that 
authority  has  not  relieved  the  Hebrew  nation  from  the 
wrath  which  came  upon  them  to  the  uttermost.  The 
salvation  they  desired  was  not  moral  elevation  or 
spiritual  life,  and  so  Jesus  had  nothing  to  bestow  upon 
them  ;  they  refused  the  Holy  One  and  the  Just.  What 
they  wanted  was  the  world,  the  place  which  Rome  held, 
and  which  they  fondly  hoped  was  yet  to  be  their  own. 
Even  to  have  failed  in  the  pursuit  of  this  was  better 
than  to  have  the  words  of  everlasting  life,  and  so  the 
name  of  Barabbas  was  enough  to  secure  the  rejection 
of  Christ.  It  would  almost  seem  that  Pilate  was  ready 
to  rekase  both,  if  that  would  satisfy  them,  for  he  asks, 
m   hesitation  and  perplexity,   **  What  shall  I  do  then 


422  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 

with  Him  Whom  ye  call  the  King  of  the  Jews  ?  "  Surely 
in  their  excitement  for  an  insurgent,  that  title,  given 
by  themselves,  will  awake  their  pity.  But  again  and 
again,  like  the  howl  of  wolves,  resounds  their  ferocious 
cry,  Crucify  Him,  crucify  Him. 

The  irony  of  Providence  is  known  to  every  student 
of  history,  but  it  never  was  so  manifest  as  here.  Under 
the  pressure  of  circumstances  upon  men  whom  principle 
has  not  made  firm,  we  find  a  Roman  governor  striving  to 
kindle  every  disloyal  passion  of  his  subjects,  on  behalf 
of  the  King  of  the  Jews, — appealing  to  men  whom  he 
hated  and  despised,  and  whose  charges  have  proved 
empty  as  chaff,  to  say,  What  evil  has  He  done  ?  and 
even  to  tell  him,  on  his  judgment  throne,  what  he  shall 
do  with  their  King;  we  find  the  men  who  accused  Jesus 
of  stirring  up  the  people  to  sedition,  now  shamelessly 
agitating  for  the  release  of  a  red-handed  insurgent ; 
forced  moreover  to  accept  the  responsibility  which  they 
would  fain  have  devolved  on  Pilate,  and  themselves  to 
pronounce  the  hateful  sentence  of  crucifixion,  unknown 
to  their  law,  but  for  which  they  had  secretly  intrigued  ; 
and  we  find  the  multitude  fiercely  clamouring  for  a 
defeated  champion  of  brute  force,  whose  weapon  has 
snapped  in  his  hands,  who  has  led  his  followers  to 
the  cross,  and  from  whom  there  is  no  more  to  hope. 
What  satire  upon  their  hope  of  a  temporal  Messiah 
could  be  more  bitter  than  their  own  cry,  "  We  have  no 
king  but  Caesar  "  ?  And  what  satire  upon  this  profession 
more  destructive  than  their  choice  of  Barabbas  and 
refusal  of  Christ  ?  And  all  the  while,  Jesus  looks  on 
in  silence,  carrying  out  His  mournful  but  effectual  plan, 
the  true  Master  of  the  movements  which  design  to 
crush  Him,  and  which  He  has  foretold.  As  He  ever 
receives  gifts  for  the  rebellious,  and  is  the  Saviour  of 


Markxv.  I-20.]  PILATE.  423 

all  men,  though  especially  of  them  that  believe,  so  now 
His  passion,  which  retrieved  the  erring  soul  of  Peter, 
and  won  the  penitent  thief,  rescues  Barabbas  from  the 
cross.     His  suffering  was  made  visibly  vicarious. 

One  is  tempted  to  pity  the  feeble  judge,  the  only 
person  who  is  known  to  have  attempted  to  rescue  Jesus, 
beset  by  his  old  faults,  which  will  make  an  impeachment 
fatal,  wishing  better  than  he  dares  to  act,  hesitating, 
sinking  inch  by  inch,  and  like  a  bird  with  broken  wing. 
No  accomplice  in  this  frightful  crime  is  so  suggestive 
of  warning  to  hearts  not  entirely  hardened. 

But  pity  is  lost  in  sterner  emotion  as  we  remember 
that  this  wicked  governor,  having  borne  witness  to  the 
perfect  innocence  of  Jesus,  was  content,  in  order  to 
save  himself  from  danger,  to  watch  the  Blessed  One 
enduring  all  the  horrors  of  a  Roman  scourging,  and 
then  to  yield  Him  up  to  die. 

It  is  now  the  unmitigated  cruelty  of  ancient  pagan- 
ism which  has  closed  its  hand  upon  our  Lord.  When 
the  soldiers  led  Him  away  within  the  court.  He  wa3 
lost  to  His  nation,  which  had  renounced  Him.  It  is 
upon  this  utter  alienation,  even  more  than  the  locality 
where  the  cross  was  fixed,  that  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  turns  our  attention,  when  it  reminds  us  that 
"the  bodies  of  those  beasts  whose  blood  is  brought 
into  the  holy  place  by  the  high  priest  as  an  offering  for 
sin,  are  burned  without  the  camp.  Wherefore  Jesus 
also,  that  He  might  sanctify  the  people  through  His 
own  blood,  suffered  without  the  gate."  The  physical 
exclusion,  the  material  parallel  points  to  something 
deeper,  for  the  inference  is  that  of  estrangement. 
Those  who  serve  the  tabernacle  cannot  eat  of  our  altar. 
Let  us  go  forth  unto  Him,  bearing  His  reproach. 
(Heb.  xii.  10-13). 


(34  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 


Renounced  by  Israel,  and  about  to  become  a  curse 
under  the  law,  He  has  now  to  suffer  the  cruelty  of 
wantonness,  as  He  has  already  endured  the  cruelty  of 
hatred  and  fear.  Now,  more  than  ever  perhaps,  He 
looks  for  pity  and  there  is  no  man.  None  responded 
to  the  deep  appeal  of  the  eyes  which  had  never  seen 
misery  without  relieving  it.  The  contempt  of  the 
strong  for  the  weak  and  suffering,  of  coarse  natures  for 
sensitive  ones,  of  Romans  for  Jews,  all  these  were 
blended  with  bitter  scorn  of  the  Jewish  expectation  that 
some  day  Rome  shall  bow  before  a  Hebrew  conqueror, 
in  the  mockery  which  Jesus  now  underwent,  when  they 
clad  Him  in  such  cast-off  purple  as  the  Palace  yielded, 
thrust  a  reed  into  His  pinioned  hand,  crowned  Him 
with  thorns,  beat  these  into  His  holy  head  with  the 
sceptre  they  had  offered  Him,  and  then  proceeded  to 
render  the  homage  of  their  nation  to  the  Messiah  of 
Jewish  hopes.  It  may  have  been  this  mockery  which 
suggested  to  Pilate  the  inscription  for  the  cross.  But 
where  is  the  mockery  now  ?  In  crowning  Him  King 
of  sufferings,  and  Royal  among  those  who  weep,  they 
secured  to  Him  the  adherence  of  all  hearts.  Christ 
was  made  perfect  by  the  things  which  He  suffered  ; 
and  it  was  not  only  in  spite  of  insult  and  anguish  but 
by  means  of  them  that  He  drew  all  men  unto  Him. 

CHRIST    CRUCIFIED. 

**  And  they  compel  one  passing  by,  Simon  of  Cyrene,  coming  from 
the  country,  the  father  of  Alexander  and  Rufus,  to  go  with  them,  that 
he  might  bear  His  cross.  And  they  bring  Him  unto  the  place  Golgotha, 
which  is,  being  interpreted,  The  place  of  a  skull.  And  they  offered 
Him  wine  mingled  with  myrrh  :  but  He  received  it  not.  And  they 
crucify  Him,  and  part  His  garments  among  them,  casting  lots  upon 
them,  what  each  should  take.  And  it  was  the  third  hour,  and  they 
trucified  Him.     And  the  superscription  of  His  accusation  was  written 


IUrkxv.2i-32.J  CHRIST  CRUCIFIED.  425 

over,  THE  KING  OF  THE  JEWS.  And  with  Him  they  crucify  two 
robbers ;  one  on  His  right  hand,  and  one  on  His  left.  And  they  that 
passed  by  railed  on  Him,  wagging  their  heads,  and  saying,  Ha !  Thou 
that  destroyest  the  temple,  and  buildest  it  in  three  days,  save  Thyself, 
and  come  down  from  the  cross.  In  like  manner  also  the  chief  priestc 
mocking  Him  among  themselves  with  the  scribes  said.  He  saved  others  ; 
Himself  He  cannot  save.  Let  the  Christ,  the  King  of  Israel,  now 
come  down  from  the  cross,  that  we  may  see  and  believe.  And 
they  that  were  crucihed  with  Him  reproached  Him." — Mark  xv.  ai-32 
(R.V.). 

At  last  the  preparations  were  complete  and  the  inteival 
of  mental  agony  was  over.  They  led  Him  away  to 
crucify  Him.  And  upon  the  road  an  event  of  mournful 
interest  took  place.  It  was  the  custom  to  lay  the  two 
arms  of  the  cross  upon  the  doomed  man,  fastening 
them  together  at  such  an  angle  as  to  pass  behind  His 
neck,  while  his  hands  were  bound  to  the  ends  in  front. 
And  thus  it  was  that  Jesus  went  forth  bearing  His 
cross.  Did  He  think  of  this  when  He  bade  us  take 
His  yoke  upon  us  ?  Did  He  wait  for  events  to  explain 
the  words,  by  making  it  visibly  one  and  the  same  to 
take  His  yoke  and  to  take  up  our  cross  and  follow 
Him? 

On  the  road,  however,  they  forced  a  reluctant  stranger 
to  go  with  them  that  he  might  bear  the  cross.  The 
traditional  reason  is  that  our  Redeemer's  strength  gave 
way,  and  it  became  physically  impossible  for  Him  to 
proceed;  but  this  is  challenged  upon  the  ground  that 
to  fail  would  have  been  unworthy  of  our  Lord,  and 
would  mar  the  perfection  of  His  example.  How  so, 
when  the  failure  was  a  real  one  ?  Is  there  no  fitness 
in  the  belief  that  He  who  was  tempted  in  all  points  like 
as  we  are,  endured  this  hardness  also,  of  struggling 
with  the  impossible  demands  of  human  cruelty,  the 
spirit  indeed  willing  but  the  flesh  weak  ?  It  is  not 
easy   to   believe   that   any   other    reason    than    manifest 


426  GOSPEL   OF  ST,  MARK. 


inability,  would  have  induced  his  persecutors  to  spare 
Him  one  drop  of  bitterness,  one  throb  of  pain.  The 
noblest  and  most  deUcately  balanced  frame,  like  all 
other  exquisite  machines,  is  not  capable  of  the  rudest 
strain ;  and  we  know  that  Jesus  had  once  sat  wearied 
by  the  well,  while  the  hardy  fishers  went  into  the  town, 
and  returned  with  bread.  And  this  night  our  gentle 
Master  had  endured  what  no  common  victim  knew. 
Long  before  the  scourging,  or  even  the  buffeting  began. 
His  spiritual  exhaustion  had  needed  that  an  angel  from 
heaven  should  strengthen  Him.  And  the  utmost  pos- 
sibility of  exertion  was  now  reached  :  the  spot  where 
they  met  Simon  of  Cyrene  marks  this  melancholy  hmit; 
and  suffering  henceforth  must  be  purely  passive. 

We  cannot  assert  with  confidence  that  Simon  and 
his  family  were  saved  by  this  event.  The  coercion  put 
upon  him,  the  fact  that  he  was  seized  and  "impressed  " 
into  the  service,  already  seems  to  indicate  sympathy  with 
Jesus.  And  we  are  fain  to  believe  that  he  who  received 
the  honour,  so  strange  and  sad  and  sacred,  the  unique 
privilege  of  lifting  some  little  of  the  crushing  burden 
of  the  Saviour,  was  not  utterly  ignorant  of  what  he  did. 
We  know  at  least  that  the  names  of  his  children, 
Alexander  and  Rufus,  were  familiar  in  the  Church  for 
which  St.  Mark  was  writing,  and  that  in  Rome  a 
Rufus  was  chosen  in  the  Lord,  and  his  mother  was 
like  a  mother  to  St.  Paul  (Rom.  xvi.  13).  With  what 
feelings  may  they  have  recalled  the  story,  "  him  they 
compelled  to  bear  His  cross." 

They  led  Him  to  a  place  where  the  rounded  summit 
of  a  knoll  had  its  grim  name  from  some  resemblance  to 
I  human  skull,  and  prepared  the  crosses  there. 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
who  lamented  Him  as  He  went,  to  provide  a  stupefying 


Mark  XV.  21-32.]  CHRIST  CRUCIFIED.  427 

draught  for  the  sufferers  of  this  atrocious  cruelty. 
''And  they  offered  Him  wine  mixed  with  myrrh,  but 
He  received  it  not,"  although  that  dreadful  thirst,  which 
was  part  of  the  suffering  of  crucifixion,  had  already 
begun,  for  He  only  refused  when  He  had  tasted  it. 

In  so  doing  He  rebuked  all  who  seek  to  drown 
sorrows  or  benumb  the  soul  in  wine,  all  who  degrade 
and  dull  their  sensibilities  by  physical  excess  or  in- 
dulgence, all  who  would  rather  blind  their  intelligence 
than  pay  the  sharp  cost  of  its  exercise.  He  did  not 
condemn  the  use  of  anodynes,  but  the  abuse  of  them. 
It  is  one  thing  to  suspend  the  senses  during  an  ope- 
ration, and  quite  another  thing  by  one's  own  choice 
to  pass  into  eternity  without  consciousness  enough  to 
commit  the  soul  into  its  Father's  hands. 

"And  they  crucify  Him."  Let  the  words  remain 
as  the  Evangelist  left  them,  to  tell  their  own  story  of 
human  sin,  and  of  Divine  love  which  many  waters  could 
not  quench,  neither  could  the  depths  drown  it. 

Only  let  us  think  in  silence  of  all  that  those  words 
convey. 

In  the  first  sharpness  of  mortal  anguish,  Jesus  saw 
His  executioners  sit  down  at  ease,  all  unconscious 
of  the  dread  meaning  of  what  was  passing  by  their 
side,  to  part  His  garments  among  them,  and  cast  lots 
for  the  raiment  which  they  had  stripped  from  His  sacred 
form.  The  Gospels  are  content  thus  to  abandon  those 
relics  about  which  so  many  legends  have  been  woven. 
But  indeed  all  through  these  four  wonderful  narratives 
the  self-restraint  is  perfect.  When  the  Epistles  touch 
upon  the  subject  of  the  crucifixion  they  kindle  into 
flame.  When  St.  Peter  soon  afterwards  referred  to  it, 
his  indignation  is  beyond  question,  and  Stephen  called 
the  rulers   betrayers  and  murderers  (Acts  ii.  23,  24; 


428  GOSPEL    OF  ST.  MARK, 

iii.  13,  14;  vii.  51-53)  but  not  one  single  syllable  ol 
complaint  or  comment  mingles  with  the  clear  flow  of 
narrative  in  the  four  Gospels.  The  truth  is  that  the 
subject  was  too  great,  too  fresh  and  vivid  in  their  minds, 
to  be  adorned  or  enlarged  upon.  What  comment  of 
St.  Mark,  what  mortal  comment,  could  add  to  the  weight 
of  the  words  "  they  crucify  Him  "  ?  Men  use  no  figures 
of  speech  when  tdling  how  their  own  beloved  one  died. 
But  it  was  differently  that  the  next  age  wrote  about 
the  crucifixion  ;  aad  perhaps  the  lofty  self-restraint  of 
the  Evangelists  has  never  been  attained  again. 

St.  Mark  tells  us  that  He  was  crucified  at  the  third 
hour,  whereas  we  read  in  St.  John  that  it  was  "  about 
the  sixth  hour"  when  Pilate  ascended  the  seat  of 
judgment  (xix.  14).  It  seems  likely  that  St.  John  used 
the  Roman  reckoning,  and  his  computation  does  not 
pretend  to  be  exact ;  while  we  must  remember  that 
mental  agitation  conspired  with  the  darkening  of  the 
sky,  to  render  such  an  estimate  as  he  offers  even  more 
than  usually  vague. 

It  has  been  supposed  that  St.  Mark's  ^'  third  hour " 
goes  back  to  the  scourging,  which,  as  being  a  regular 
part  of  Roman  crucifixion,  he  includes,  although  in- 
flicted in  this  case  before  the  sentence.  But  it  will 
prove  quite  as  hard  to  reconcile  this  distribution  of  time 
with  "  the  sixth  hour"  in  St.  John,  while  it  is  at  variance 
with  the  context  in  which  St.  Mark  asserts  it. 

The  small  and  bitter  heart  of  Pilate  keenly  resented 
his  defeat  and  the  victory  of  the  priests.  Perhaps  it 
was  when  his  soldiers  offered  the  scornful  homage  of 
Rome  to  Israel  and  her  monarch,  that  he  saw  the  way 
to  a  petty  revenge.  And  all  Jerusalem  was  scandalized 
by  reading  the  ins:ription  over  a  crucified  malefactor's 
head,  The  King  of  the  Jews. 


Mark  XV.  21-32.]  CHRIST  CRUCIFIED.  429 

It  needs  some  reflection  to  perceive  how  sharp  the 
taunt  was.  A  few  years  ago  they  had  a  king,  but 
the  sceptre  had  departed  from  Judah ;  Rome  had 
aboHshed  him.  It  was  their  hope  that  soon  a  native 
king  would  for  ever  sweep  away  the  foreigner  from 
their  fields.  But  here  the  Roman  exhibited  the  fate  of 
such  a  claim,  and  professed  to  inflict  its  horrors  not 
upon  one  whom  they  disavowed,  but  upon  their  king 
indeed.  We  know  how  angrily  and  vainly  they  pro- 
tested ;  and  again  we  seem  to  recognise  the  solemn 
irony  of  Providence.  For  this  was  their  true  King, 
and  the}',  who  resented  the  superscription,  had  fixed 
their  Anointed  there. 

All  the  more  they  would  disconnect  themselves  from 
Him,  and  wreak  their  passion  upon  the  helpless  One 
whom  they  hated.  The  populace  mocked  Him  openly : 
the  chief  priests,  too  cultivated  to  insult  avowedly  a 
dying  man,  mocked  Him  "among  themselves,"  speaking 
bitter  words  for  Him  to  hear.  The  multitude  repeated 
the  false  charge  which  had  probably  done  much  to 
inspire  their  sudden  preference  for  Barabbas,  "  Thou 
that  destroyest  the  temple  and  buildest  it  again  in  three 
days,  save  Thyself  and  come  down  from  the  cross." 

They  little  suspected  that  they  were  recalling  words 
of  consolation  to  His  memory,  reminding  Him  that  all 
this  suffering  was  foreseen,  and  how  it  was  all  to  end. 
The  chief  priests  spoke  also  a  truth  full  of  consolation, 
"  He  saved  others.  Himself  He  cannot  save,"  although 
it  was  no  physical  bar  which  forbade  Him  to  accept 
their  challenge.  And  when  they  flung  at  Him  His 
favourite  demand  for  faith,  saying  "  Let  the  Christ,  the 
King  of  Israel,  now  come  down  from  the  cross,  that  we 
may  see  and  believe  "  surely  they  reminded  Him  of  the 
great  multitude  who  should  not  see,  and  yet  should 


430  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   MARK, 

believe,  when  He  came  back  through  the  gates  ol 
death. 

Thus  the  words  they  spoke  could  not  afflict  Him. 
But  what  horror  to  the  pure  soul  to  behold  these  yawning 
abysses  of  malignity,  these  gulfs  of  pitiless  hate.  The 
affronts  hurled  at  suffering  and  defeat  by  prosperous  and 
exultant  malice  are  especially  Satanic.  Many  diseases 
inflict  more  physical  pain  than  torturers  ever  invented, 
but  they  do  not  excite  the  same  horror,  because  gentle 
ministries  are  there  to  charm  away  the  despair  which 
human  hate  and  execration  conjure  up. 

To  add  to  the  insult  of  His  disgraceful  death,  the 
Romans  had  crucified  two  robbers,  doubtless  from  the 
band  of  Barabbas,  one  upon  each  side  of  Jesus.  We 
know  how  this  outrage  led  to  the  salvation  of  one  of 
them,  and  refreshed  the  heavy  laden  soul  of  Jesus, 
oppressed  by  so  much  guilt  and  vileness,  with  the  visible 
firstfruit  of  His  passion,  giving  Him  to  see  of  the  travail 
of  His  soul,  by  which  He  shall  yet  be  satisfied. 

But  in  their  first  agony  and  despair,  when  all  voices 
were  unanimous  against  the  Blessed  One,  and  they 
too  must  needs  find  some  outlet  for  their  frenzy,  they 
both  reproached  Him.  Thus  the  circle  of  human 
wrong  was  rounded. 

The  traitor,  the  deserters,  the  forsworn  apostle,  the 
perjured  witnesses,  the  hypocritical  pontiff  professing 
horror  at  blasphemy  while  himself  abjuring  his  national 
hope,  the  accomplices  in  a  sham  trial,  the  murderer 
of  the  Baptist  and  his  men  of  war,  the  abject  ruler 
who  declared  Him  innocent  yet  gave  Him  up  to  die, 
the  servile  throng  who  waited  on  the  priests,  the 
soldiers  of  Herod  and  of  Pilate,  the  pitiless  crowd 
which  clamoured  for  His  blood,  and  they  who  mocked 
Him  in  His  agony, — not  one  of  them  whom  Jesus  did 


Mark XV.  33-4 1 •]        ^^^'   DEATH  OF  JESUS.  431 

not  compassionate,  whose  cruelty  had  not  power  to 
wring  His  heart.  Disciple  and  foeman,  Roman  and 
Jew,  priest  and  soldier  and  judge,  all  had  lifted  up 
their  voice  against  Him.  And  when  the  comrades  of 
His  passion  joined  the  cry,  the  last  ingredient  of 
human  cruelty  was  infused  into  the  cup  which  James 
and  John  had  once  proposed  to  drink  with  Him. 


THE  DEATH  OF  JESUS, 

"  And  when  the  sixth  hour  was  come,  there  was  darkness  over  the 
whole  land  until  the  ninth  hour.  And  at  the  ninth  hour  Jesus  cried 
with  a  loud  voice,  Eloi,  Eloi,  lama  sabachthani  ?  which  is,  being  inter- 
preted, My  God,  My  God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  Me?  And  some  of 
them  that  stood  by,  when  they  heard  it,  said.  Behold,  He  calleth 
Elijah.  And  one  ran,  and  filling  a  sponge  full  of  vinegar,  put  it  on  a 
reed,  and  gave  Him  to  drink,  saying,  Let  be ;  let  us  see  whether  Elijah 
Cometh  to  take  Him  down.  And  Jesus  uttered  a  loud  voice,  and  gave 
up  the  ghost.  And  the  veil  of  the  temple  was  rent  in  twain  from  the 
top  to  the  bottom.  And  when  the  centurion,  which  stood  by  over  against 
Him,  saw  that  He  so  gave  up  the  ghost,  he  said.  Truly  this  man  was 
the  Son  of  God.  And  there  were  also  women  beholding  from  afar  : 
among  whom  were  both  Mary  Magdalene,  and  Mary  the  mother  of 
James  the  less  and  of  Joses,  and  Salome;  who,  when  He  was  in 
Galilee,  followed  Him,  and  ministered  unto  Him  ;  and  many  other 
women  which  came  up  with  Him  unto  Jerusalem." — Mark  xv.  33-41 
(R.V.). 

Three  hours  of  raging  human  passion,  endured  with 
Godlike  patience,  were  succeeded  by  three  hours  of 
darkness,  hushing  mortal  hatred  into  silence,  and  per- 
haps contributing  to  the  penitence  of  the  reviler  at  His 
side.  It  was  a  supernatural  gloom,  since  an  eclipse  of 
the  sun  was  impossible  during  the  full  moon  of  Pass- 
over. Shall  we  say  that,  as  it  shall  be  in  the  last  days, 
nature  sympathized  with  humanity,  and  the  angel  of 
the  sun  hid  his  face  from  his  suffering  Lord  ? 

Or  was  it  the  shadow  of  a  still  more  dreadful  eclipse, 


43a  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

for  now  the  eternal  Father  veiled  His  countenance  from 
the  Son  in  whom  He  was  well  pleased  ? 

In  some  true  sense  God  forsook  Him.  And  we  have 
to  seek  for  a  meaning  of  this  awful  statement — inade- 
quate no  doubt,  for  all  our  thoughts  must  come  short  of 
such  a  reality,  but  free  from  prevarication  and  evasion. 

It  is  wholly  unsatisfactory  to  regard  the  verse  as 
merely  the  heading  of  a  psalm,  cheerful  for  the  most 
part,  which  Jesus  inaudibly  recited.  Why  was  only 
this  verse  uttered  aloud?  How  false  an  impression 
must  have  been  produced  upon  the  multitude,  upon 
St.  John,  upon  the  penitent  thief,  if  Jesus  were  suffering 
less  than  the  extreme  of  spiritual  anguish.  Nay,  we 
feel  that  never  before  can  the  verse  have  attained  its 
fullest  meaning,  a  meaning  which  no  experience  of 
David  could  more  than  dimly  shadow  forth,  since  we 
ask  in  our  sorrows,  Why  have  we  forsaken  God  ?  but 
Jesus  said,  Why  hast  Thou  forsaken  Me  ? 

And  this  unconsciousness  of  any  reason  for  desertion 
disproves  the  old  notion  that  He  felt  Himself  a  sinner, 
and  "  suffered  infinite  remorse,  as  being  the  chief 
sinner  in  the  universe,  all  the  sins  of  mankind  being 
His."  One  who  felt  thus  could  neither  have  addressed 
God  as  ^'  My  God,"  nor  asked  why  He  was  forsaken. 

Still  less  does  it  allow  us  to  believe  that  the  Father 
perfectly  identified  Jesus  with  sin,  so  as  to  be  "  wroth  " 
with  Him,  and  even  "to  hate  Him  to  the  uttermost." 
Such  notions,  the  offspring  of  theories  carried  to  a  wild 
and  irreverent  extreme,  when  carefully  examined  im- 
pute to  the  Deity  confusion  of  thought,  a  mistaking  of 
the  Holy  One  for  a  sinner  or  rather  for  the  aggregate 
of  sinners.  But  it  is  very  different  when  we  pass  from 
the  Divine  consciousness  to  the  bearing  of  God  toward 
Christ  our  representative,  to  the  outshining  or  eclippc 


Mark  XV.  33-41]       THE  DEATH  OF  JESUS,  433 

of  His  favour.  That  this  was  overcast  is  manifest  from 
the  fact  that  Jesus  everywhere  else  addresses  Him  as 
My  Father,  here  only  as  My  God.  Even  in  the  garden 
it  was  Abba  Father,  and  the  change  indicates  not  in- 
deed estrangement  of  heart,  but  certainly  remoteness. 
Thus  we  have  the  sense  of  desertion,  combined  with 
the  assurance  which  once  breathed  in  the  words,  O  God, 
Thou  art  my  God. 

Thus  also  it  came  to  pass  that  He  who  never  forfeited 
the  most  intimate  communion  and  sunny  smile  of 
heaven,  should  yet  give  us  an  example  at  the  last 
of  that  utmost  struggle  and  sternest  effort  of  the  soul, 
which  trusts  without  experience,  without  emotion,  in 
the  dark,  because  God  is  God,  not  because  I  am  happy. 

But  they  who  would  empty  the  death  of  Jesus  of  its 
sacrificial  import,  and  leave  only  the  attraction  and  in- 
spiration of  a  sublime  life  and  death,  must  answer  the 
hard  questions,  How  came  God  to  forsake  the  Perfect 
One  ?  Or,  how  came  He  to  charge  God  with  such 
desertion  ?  His  follower,  twice  using  this  very  word, 
could  boast  that  he  was  cast  down  yet  not  forsaken,  and 
that  at  his  first  trial  all  men  forsook  him,  yet  the  Lord 
stood  by  him  (2  Cor.  iv.  9;  2  Tim.  iv.  16,  17).  How 
came  the  disciple  to  be  above  his  Master  ? 

The  only  explanation  is  in  His  own  word,  that  His 
life  is  a  ransom  in  exchange  for  many  (Mark  x.  45). 
The  chastisement  of  our  peace,  not  the  remorse  of  our 
guiltiness,  was  upon  Him.  No  wonder  that  St.  Mark, 
who  turns  aside  from  his  narrative  for  no  comment, 
no  exposition,  was  yet  careful  to  preserve  this  alone 
among  the  dying  words  of  Christ. 

And  the  Father  heard  His  Son.  At  that  cry  the  mys- 
terious darkness  passed  away;  and  the  soul  of  Jesus  was 
relieved  from  its  burden,  so  that  He  became  conscious 

28 


434  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK. 

of  physical  suffering ;  and  the  mockery  of  the  multitude 
was  converted  into  awe.  It  seemed  to  them  that  Flis 
Eloi  might  indeed  bring  Elias,  and  the  great  and  notable 
day,  and  they  were  willing  to  relieve  the  thirst  which 
no  stoical  hardness  forbade  that  gentlest  of  all  sufferers 
to  confess.  Thereupon  the  anguish  that  redeemed  the 
world  was  over ;  a  loud  voice  told  that  exhaustion  was 
not  complete  ;  and  yet  Jesus  "  gave  up  the  ghost."  * 

Through  the  veil,  that  is  to  say  His  flesh,  we  have 
boldness  to  enter  into  the  holy  place ;  and  now  that 
He  had  opened  the  way,  the  veil  of  the  temple  was 
rent  asunder  by  no  mortal  hand,  but  downward  from 
the  top.  The  way  into  the  holiest  was  visibly  thrown 
open,  when  sin  was  expiated,  which  had  forfeited  our 
right  of  access. 

And  the  centurion,  seeing  that  His  death  itself  was 
abnormal  and  miraculous,  and  accompanied  with 
miraculous  signs,  said,  Truly  this  was  a  righteous  man. 
But  such  a  confession  could  not  rest  there  :  if  He  was 
this.  He  was  all  He  claimed  to  be ;  and  the  mockery  of 
His  enemies  had  betrayed  the  secret  of  their  hate ;  He 
was  the  Son  of  God. 

"  When  the  centurion  saw  "  .  .  .  "  There  were  also 
many  women  beholding."  Who  can  overlook  the  con- 
nection? Their  gentle  hearts  were  not  to  be  utterly  over- 
whelmed :  as  the  centurion  saw  and  drew  his  inference, 
so  they  beheld,  and  felt,  however  dimly,  amid  sorrows 
that  benumb  the  mind,  that  still,  even  in  such  wreck 
and  misery,  God  was  not  far  from  Jesus. 

When  the  Lord  said.  It  is  finished,  there  was  not  only 
an  end  of  conscious  anguish,  but  also  of  contempt  and 

•  The  ingenious  and  plausible  attempt  to  show  that  Hi*  death  was 
caused  by  a  physical  rupture  of  the  heart  has  one  fatal  weakneaa. 
Death  came  too  late  for  this ;  the  severest  pressure  was  already  rtiieraA 


Mark XV.  33-41.]       THE  DEATH  OF  /ESUS,  435 

insult.  His  body  was  not  to  see  corruption,  nor  was  a 
bone  to  be  broken,  nor  should  it  remain  in  hostile  hands. 

Respect  for  Jewish  prejudice  prevented  the  Romans 
from  leaving  it  to  moulder  on  the  cross,  and  the 
approaching  Sabbath  was  not  one  to  be  polluted.  And 
knowing  this,  Joseph  of  Arimathsea  boldly  went  in  to 
Pilate  and  asked  for  the  body  of  Jesus.  It  was  only 
secretly  and  in  fear  that  he  had  been  a  disciple,  but  the 
deadly  crisis  had  developed  what  was  hidden,  he  had 
opposed  the  crime  of  his  nation  in  their  council,  and  in 
the  hour  of  seeming  overthrow  he  chose  the  good  part. 
Boldly  the  timid  one  "  went  in,"  braving  the  scowls  of 
the  priesthood,  defiling  himself  moreover,  and  forfeiting 
his  share  in  the  sacred  feast,  in  hope  to  win  the  further 
defilement  of  contact  with  the  dead. 

Pilate  was  careful  to  verify  so  rapid  a  death ;  but  when 
he  was  certain  of  the  fact,  "  he  granted  the  corpse  to 
Joseph,"  as  a  worthless  thing.  His  frivolity  is  expressed 
alike  in  the  unusual  verb*  and  substantive  :  he  ''  freely- 
bestowed,"  he  "  gave  away  "  not  *'  the  body  "  as  when 
Joseph  spoke  of  it,  but  "  the  corpse,"  the  fallen  thing, 
like  a  prostrated  and  uprooted  tree  that  shall  revive  no 
more.  Wonderful  it  is  to  reflect  that  God  had  entered 
into  eternal  union  with  what  was  thus  given  away  to 
the  only  man  of  rank  who  cared  to  ask  for  it.  Won- 
derful to  think  what  opportunities  of  eternal  gain  men 
are  content  to  lose ;  what  priceless  treasures  are  given 
away,  or  thrown  away  as  worthless.  Wonderful  to 
imagine  the  feelings  of  Joseph  in  heaven  to-day,  as  he 
gazes  with  gratitude  and  love  upon  the  glorious  Body 
which  once,  for  a  little,  was  consigned  to  his  reverent  care. 

St.  John  tells  us  that  Nicodemus  brought  a  hundred 
pound  weight  of  myrrh  and  aloes,  and  they  together 

•  I.e.  in  the  New  Testament,  where  it  occurs  but  once  besides. 


43«  GOSFEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

wrapped  Him  in  these,  in  the  linen  which  had  been 
provided ;  and  Joseph  laid  Him  in  his  own  new  tomb, 
undesecraied  by  mortality. 

And  there  Jesus  rested.  His  friends  had  no  such 
hope  as  would  prevent  them  from  closing  the  door  with 
a  great  stone.  His  enemies  set  a  watch,  and  sealed 
the  stone.  The  broad  moon  of  Passover  made  the 
night  as  clear  as  the  day,  and  the  multitude  of 
strangers,  who  thronged  the  city  and  its  suburbs,  ren- 
dered any  attempt  at  robbery  even  more  hopeless  than 
at  another  season. 

What  indeed  could  the  trembling  disciples  of  an 
executed  pretender  do  with  such  an  object  as  a  dead 
body  ?  What  could  they  hope  from  the  possession  of 
it  ?  But  if  they  did  not  steal  it,  if  the  moral  glories  of 
Christianity  are  not  sprung  from  deliberate  mendacity, 
why  was  the  body  not  produced,  to  abash  the  wild 
dreams  of  their  fanaticism  ?  It  was  fearfully  easy  to 
identify.  The  scourging,  the  cross,  and  the  spear,  left 
no  slight  evidence  behind,  and  the  broken  bones  of 
the  malefactors  completed  the  absolute  isolation  of  the 
sacred  body  of  the  Lord. 

The  providence  of  God  left  no  precaution  unsupplied 
to  satisfy  honest  and  candid  inquiry.  It  remained  to 
be  seen,  would  He  leave  Christ's  soul  in  Hades,  or 
suffer  His  Holy  One  (such  is  the  epithet  applied  to  the 
body  of  Jesus)  to  see  corruption  ? 

Meantime,  through  what  is  called  three  days  and 
nights — a  space  which  touched,  but  only  touched,  the 
confines  of  a  first  and  third  day,  as  well  as  the  Satur- 
day which  intervened,  Jesus  shared  the  humiliation  of 
common  men,  the  divorce  of  soul  and  body.  He  slept 
as  sleep  the  dead,  but  His  soul  was  where  He  promised 
that  the  penitent  should  come,  refreshed  in  Paradise. 


CHAPTER    XVt 

CHRIST  RISEN, 

••And  when  the  sabbath  was  past,  Mary  Magdalene,  and  Mary  thi 
WMther  of  James,  and  Salome,  bought  spices,  that  they  might  come  and 
anoint  Him.  And  very  early  on  the  first  day  of  the  week,  they  come  to 
the  tomb  when  the  r.un  was  risen.  And  they  were  saying  among  them- 
selves, Who  shall  roll  us  away  the  stone  from  the  door  of  the  tomb  ? 
and  looking  up,  they  see  that  the  stone  is  rolled  back  ;  for  it  was  ex- 
ceeding great.  And  entering  into  the  tomb,  they  saw  a  young  man 
sitting  on  the  right  side,  arrayed  in  a  white  robe,  and  they  were  amazed. 
And  he  saith  unto  them.  Be  not  amazed  ;  ye  seek  Jesus,  the  Nazarene, 
Which  hath  been  crucified  :  He  is  risen  ;  He  is  not  here  :  behold,  the 
place  where  they  laid  Him  1  But  go,  tell  His  disciples  and  Peter,  He 
goeth  before  you  into  Galilee :  there  shall  ye  see  Him,  as  He  said  unto 
you.  And  they  went  out,  and  fled  from  the  tomb ;  for  trembling  and 
astonishment  had  come  upon  them  ;  and  they  said  nothing  to  any  one  ; 
for  they  were  afraid.  Now  when  He  was  risen  early  on  the  first  day  of 
the  week,  He  appeared  first  to  Mary  Magdalene,  from  whom  He  liad 
cast  out  seven  devils.  She  went  and  told  them  that  had  been  with  Him, 
as  they  mourned  and  wept.  And  they,  when  they  heard  that  He  was 
alive,  and  had  been  seen  of  her,  disbelieved.  And  after  these  things 
He  was  manifested  in  another  form  unto  two  of  them,  as  they  walked, 
on  their  way  into  the  country.  And  they  went  away  and  told  it  unto 
the  rest :  neither  believed  they  them.  And  afterward  He  was  mani- 
fested unto  the  eleven  themselves  as  they  sat  at  meat ;  and  He  upbraid- 
ed them  with  their  unbelief  and  hardness  of  heart,  because  they 
believed  not  them  which  had  seen  Him  after  He  was  risen.  And  He 
said  unto  them,  Go  ye  into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  the 
whole  creation.  He  that  believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved; 
but  he  that  disbelieveth  shall  be  condemned.  And  these  signs  shall 
follow  them  that  believe  :  in  My  name  shall  they  cast  out  devils ;  they 
shall  speak  with  new  tongues  ;  they  shall  take  up  serpents,  and  if  they 
drink  any  deadly  thing,  it  shall  in  no  wise  hurt  them ;  they  shall  lay 
hands  on  the  sick,  and  they  shall  recover." — Mark  xvi.  1-18  (R.V.), 


438  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK. 

THE  Gospels  were  not  written  for  the  curious  but 
for  the  devout.  They  are  most  silent  therefore 
where  myth  and  legend  would  be  most  garrulous,  and 
it  is  instructive  to  seek,  in  the  story  of  Jesus,  for 
anything  similar  to  the  account  of  the  Buddha's 
enlightenment  under  the  Bo  tree.  We  read  nothing 
of  the  interval  in  Hades ;  nothing  of  the  entry  of  His 
crowned  and  immortal  body  into  the  presence  chamber 
of  God  ;  nothing  of  the  resurrection.  Did  He  awake 
alone  ?  Was  He  waited  upon  by  the  hierarchy  of 
heaven,  who  robed  Him  in  raiment  unknown  to  men  ? 
We  are  only  told  what  concerns  mankind,  the  sufficient 
manifestation  of  Jesus  to  His  disciples. 

And  to  harmonise  the  accounts  a  certain  effort  is 
necessary,  because  they  tell  of  interviews  with  men  and 
women  who  had  to  pass  through  all  the  vicissitudes 
of  despair,  suspense,  rapturous  incredulity,*  and  faith. 
Each  of  them  contributes  a  portion  of  the  tale. 

From  St.  John  we  learn  that  Mary  Magdalene  came 
early  to  the  sepulchre,  from  St.  Matthew  that  others 
were  with  her,  from  St.  Mark  that  these  women,  dis- 
satisfied with  the  unskilful  ministrations  of  men  (and 
men  whose  rank  knew  nothing  of  such  functions),  had 
brought  sweet  spices  to  anoint  Him  Who  was  about  to 
claim  their  adoration ;  St.  John  tells  how  Mary,  seeing 
the  empty  sepulchre,  ran  to  tell  Peter  and  John  of  its 
desecration ;  the  others,  that  in  her  absence  an  angel 
told  the  glad  tidings  to  the  women ;  St.  Mark,  that 
Mary  was  the  first  to  whom  Jesus  Himself  appeared. 
And  thenceforth  the  narrative  more  easily  falls  into  its 
place. 

*  Can  anything  surpass  that  masterstroke  of  insight  and  descriptive 
power,  "they  still  disbelieved  for  joy  "  (Luke  xxiv.  4O. 


Markxvi   i  18.]  CHRIST  RISEN,  439 

This  confusion,  however  perplexing  to  thoughtless 
readers,  is  inevitable  in  the  independent  histories  of 
such  events,  derived  from  the  various  parties  who  de- 
lighted to  remember,  each  what  had  befallen  himself. 

But  even  a  genuine  contradiction  would  avail  nothing 
to  refute  the  substantial  fact.  When  the  generals  of 
Henry  the  Fourth  strove  to  tell  him  what  passed  after 
he  was  wounded  at  Aumale,  no  two  of  them  agreed  in 
the  course  of  events  which  gave  them  victory.  Two 
armies  beheld  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  but  who  can  tell 
when  it  began  ?  At  ten  o'clock,  said  the  Duke  of 
WeUington.  At  half  past  eleven,  said  General  Alava, 
who  rode  beside  him.  At  twelve  according  to  Napoleon 
and  Drouet ;  and  at  one  according  to  Ney. 

People  who  doubt  the  reality  of  the  resurrection, 
because  the  harmony  of  the  narratives  is  underneath 
the  surface,  do  not  deny  these  facts.  They  are  part 
of  history.  Yet  it  is  certain  that  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus  colours  the  history  of  the  world  more  powerfully 
to-day,  than  the  events  which  are  so  much  more  recent. 

If  Christ  were  not  risen,  how  came  these  despairing 
men  and  women  by  their  new  hope,  their  energy,  their 
success  among  the  very  men  vvho  slew  Him  ?  If  Christ 
be  not  risen,  how  has  the  morality  of  mankind  been 
raised  ?  Was  it  ever  known  that  a  falsehood  exercised 
for  ages  a  quickening  and  purifying  power  which  no 
{ruth  can  rival  ? 

From  the  ninth  verse  to  the  end  of  St.  Mark's  account 
It  is  curiously  difficult  to  decide  on  the  true  reading. 
And  it  must  be  said  that  the  note  in  the  Revised  Version, 
however  accurate,  does  not  succeed  in  giving  any  notion 
of  the  strength  of  the  case  in  favour  of  the  remainder 
of  the  Gospel.  It  tells  us  that  the  two  oldest  manu- 
scripts omit  them,  but  we  do  not  read  that  in  one  of 


440  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 

these  a  space  is  left  for  the  insertion  of  something, 
known  by  the  scribe  to  be  wanting  there.  Nor  does  it 
mention  the  twelve  manuscripts  of  almost  equal  anti- 
quity in  which  they  are  contained,  nor  the  early  date 
at  which  they  were  quoted. 

The  evidence  appears  to  lean  towards  the  belief 
that  they  were  added  in  a  later  edition,  or  else  torn  off 
in  an  early  copy  from  which  some  transcribers  worked. 
But  unbelief  cannot  gain  anything  by  converting  them 
into  a  separate  testimony,  of  the  very  earliest  antiquity, 
to  events  related  in  each  of  the  other  Gospels. 

And  the  uncertainty  itself  will  be  wholesome  if  it 
reminds  us  that  saving  faith  is  not  to  be  reposed  in 
niceties  of  criticism,  but  in  a  living  Christ,  the  power 
and  wisdom  of  God.  Jesus  blamed  men  for  thinking 
that  they  had  eternal  life  in  their  inspired  Scriptures, 
and  so  refusing  to  come  for  life  to  Him,  of  Whom  those 
Scriptures  testified.  Has  sober  criticism  ever  shaken 
for  one  hour  that  sacred  function  of  Holy  Writ  ? 

What  then  is  especially  shown  us  in  the  dosing 
words  of  St.  Mark  ? 

Readiness  to  requite  even  a  spark  of  grace,  and  to 
bless  with  the  first  tidings  of  a  risen  Redeemer  the 
love  which  sought  only  to  embalm  His  corpse.  Tender 
care  for  the  fallen  and  disheartened,  in  the  message 
sent  especially  to  Peter.  Immeasurable  condescension, 
such  as  rested  formerly,  a  Babe,  in  a  peasant  woman's 
arms,  and  announced  its  Advent  to  shepherds,  now  ap- 
pearing first  of  all  to  a  woman  "  out  of  whom  He  had 
cast  seven  devils." 

A  state  of  mind  among  the  disciples,  far  indeed  from 
that  rapt  and  hysterical  enthusiasm  which  men  have 
fancied,  ready  to  be  whirled  away  in  a  vortex  of  reli- 
gious propagandism  (and  to  whirl  the  whole  world  after 


Markxvi.i-i8.]  CHRIST  RISEN.  44^ 

it),  upon  the  impulse  of  dreams,  hallucinations,  voices 
mistaken  on  a  misty  shore,  longings  which  begot  con- 
victions. Jesus  Hin  5elf,  and  no  second,  no  messenger 
from  Jesus,  inspired  the  zeal  which  kindled  mankind. 
The  disciples,  mourning  and  weeping,  found  the  glad 
tidings  incredible,  while  Mary  who  had  seen  Him, 
believed.  When  two,  as  they  walked,  beheld  Him 
in  another  shape,  the  rest  remained  incredulous, 
announcing  indeed  that  He  had  actually  risen  and 
appeared  unto  Peter,  yet  so  far  from  a  true  conviction 
that  when  He  actually  came  to  them,  they  supposed 
that  they  beheld  a  spirit  (Luke  xxiv.  34,  37).  Yet  He 
looked  in  the  face  those  pale  discouraged  Galileans, 
and  bade  them  go  into  all  the  world,  bearing  to  the 
whole  creation  the  issues  of  eternal  life  and  death. 
And  they  went  forth,  and  the  power  and  intellect  of 
the  world  are  won.  Whatever  unbelievers  think  about 
individual  souls,  it  is  plain  that  the  words  of  the 
Nazarene  have  proved  true  for  communities  and  nations, 
He  that  believeth  and  is  baptised  has  been  saved.  He 
that  believeth  not  has  been  condemned.  The  nation 
and  kingdom  that  has  not  served  Christ  has  perished. 

Nor  does  any  one  pretend  that  the  agents  in  this 
marvellous  movement  were  insincere.  If  all  this  was 
a  dream,  it  was  a  strange  one  surely,  and  demands  to 
be  explained.  If  it  was  otherwise,  no  doubt  the  finger 
of  God  ^as  come  unto  us. 


GOSPEL   OF  ST.   MARK, 


THE   ASCENSION. 

**So  then  the  Lord  Jesus,  after  He  had  spoken  unto  them,  wai 
received  up  into  heaven,  and  sat  down  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  And 
they  went  forth,  and  preached  everywhere,  the  Lord  working  with 
them,  and  confirming  the  word  by  the  signs  that  followed.  Amen." — 
Mark  xvL  19-20  (R.V.) 

We  have  reached  the  close  of  the  great  Gospel  of  the 
energies  of  Jesus,  His  toils,  His  manner,  His  searching 
gaze,  His  noble  indignation.  His  love  of  children,  the 
consuming  zeal  by  virtue  of  which  He  was  not  more 
truly  the  Lamb  of  God  than  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah.  St.  Mark  has  just  recorded  how  He  bade  His 
followers  carry  on  His  work,  defying  the  serpents  of 
the  world,  and  renewing  the  plague-stricken  race  of 
Adam.  In  what  strength  did  they  fulfil  this  commis- 
sion ?  How  did  they  fare  without  the  Master  ?  And 
what  is  St.  Mark's  view  of  the  Ascension  ? 

Here,  as  all  through  the  Gospel,  minor  points  are 
neglected.  Details  are  only  valued  when  they  carry 
some  aid  for  the  special  design  of  the  Evangelist,  who 
presses  to  the  core  of  his  subject  at  once  and  boldly. 
As  he  omitted  the  bribes  with  which  Satan  tempted 
Jesus,  and  cared  not  for  the  testimony  of  the  Baptist 
when  the  voice  of  God  was  about  to  peal  from  heaven 
over  the  Jordan,  as  on  the  holy  mount  he  told  not 
the  subj'yzt  of  which  Moses  and  Elijah  spoke,  but  how 
Jesus  Himself  predicted  His  death  to  His  disciples,  so 
now  He  is  silent  about  the  mountain  slope,  the  final 
benediction,  the  cloud  which  withdrew  Him  from  their 
sight  and  the  angels  who  sent  back  the  dazed  apostles 
to  their  homes  and  their  duties.  It  is  not  caprice  nor 
haste  that  omits  so  much  interesting  information.  His 
mind  is  fixed  on  a  few  central  thoughts ;  what  concercj 


Mark  xvi.  19, 2a]  THE  ASCENSION,  443 

him  is  to  link  the  mighty  story  of  the  life  and  death  of 
Jesus  with  these  great  facts,  that  He  was  received  up 
into  Heaven,  that  He  there  sat  down  upon  the  right 
hand  of  God,  and  that  His  disciples  were  never  for- 
saken of  Him  at  all,  but  proved,  by  the  miraculous 
spread  of  the  early  Church,  that  His  power  was  among 
them  still.  St.  Mark  does  not  record  the  promise,  but 
he  asserts  the  fact  that  Christ  was  with  them  all  the 
days.  There  is  indeed  a  connection  between  his  two 
closing  verses,  subtle  and  hard  to  render  into  English, 
and  yet  real,  which  suggests  the  notion  of  balance,  of 
relation  between  the  two  movements,  the  ascent  of 
Jesus,  and  the  evangelisation  of  the  world,  such  as 
exists,  for  example,  between  detachments  of  an  army 
co-operating  for  a  common  end,  so  that  our  Lord,  for 
His  part,  ascended,  while  the  disciples,  for  their  part, 
went  forth  and  found  Him  with  them  still. 

But  the  link  is  plainer  which  binds  the  Ascension  to 
His  previous  story  of  suffering  and  conflict.  It  was 
*'  then,"  and  "  after  He  had  spoken  unto  them,"  that 
"the  Lord  Jesus  was  received  up."  In  truth  His 
ascension  was  but  the  carrying  forward  to  completion 
of  His  resurrection,  which  was  not  a  return  to  the  poor 
conditions  of  our  mortal  life,  but  an  entrance  into  glory, 
only  arrested  in  its  progress  until  He  should  have  quite 
convinced  His  followers  that  "  it  is  I  indeed,"  and  made 
them  understand  that  "  thus  it  is  written  that  the  Christ 
should  suffer,  and  rise  again  from  the  dead  the  third 
day,"  and  filled  them  with  holy  shame  for  their  unbelief, 
and  with  courage  for  their  future  course,  so  strange,  so 
weary,  so  sublime. 

The.-e  is  something  remarkable  in  the  words,  "He 
was  received  up  into  heaven."  We  habitually  speak 
of  Him  as  ascending,   but  Scripture  more  frequently 


444  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  MARK, 

—      ■  »  I 

declares  that  He  was  the  subject  of  the  action  of 
another;  and  was  taken  up.  St.  Luke  tells  us  that, 
*' while  they  worshipped,  He  was  carried  up  into 
heaven,"  and  again  "He  was  received  up.  .  .  .  He 
was  taken  up  "  (Luke  xxiv.  5 1  ;  Acts  i.  2,  9).  Physical 
interference  is  not  implied :  no  angels  bore  Him  aloft ; 
and  the  narratives  make  it  clear  that  His  glorious  Body, 
obedient  to  its  new  mysterious  nature,  arose  unaided. 
But  the  decision  to  depart,  and  the  choice  of  a  time, 
came  not  from  Him  :  He  did  not  go,  but  was  taken. 
Never  hitherto  had  He  glorified  Himself.  He  had 
taught  His  disciples  to  be  contented  in  the  lowest  room 
until  the  Master  of  the  house  should  bid  them  come  up 
higher.  And  so,  when  His  own  supreme  victory  is 
won,  and  heaven  held  its  breath  expectant  and  aston- 
ished, the  conquering  Lord  was  content  to  walk  with 
peasants  by  the  Lake  of  Galilee  and  on  the  slopes  of 
Olivet  until  the  appointed  time.  What  a  rebuke  to  us 
who  chafe  and  fret  if  the  recognition  of  our  petty  merits 
be  postponed. 

"  He  was  received  up  into  heaven  ! "  What  sublime 
mysteries  are  covered  by  that  simple  phrase.  It  was 
He  who  taught  us  to  make,  even  of  the  mammon  of 
unrighteousness,  friends  who  shall  welcome  us,  when 
mammon  fails  and  all  things  mortal  have  deserted  us, 
into  everlasting  habitations.  With  what  different  greet- 
ings, then,  do  men  enter  the  City  of  God.  Some  con- 
verts of  the  death  bed  perhaps  there  are,  who  scarcely 
make  their  way  to  heaven,  alone,  unbailed  by  one 
whom  they  saved  or  comforted,  and  like  a  vessel  which 
struggles  into  port,  with  rent  cordage  and  tattered  sails, 
only  not  a  wreck.  Others,  who  aided  some  few,  spar- 
ing a  little  of  their  means  and  energies,  are  greeted  and 
blessed  by  a  scanty  group.     But  even  our  chieftains  and 


Mark  XVI.  19,  20.]  THE  ASCENSION.  445 

leaders,  the  martyrs,  sages  and  philanthropists  whose 
names  brighten  the  annals  of  the  Church,  what  is  their 
influence,  and  how  few  have  they  reached,  compared 
with  that  great  I  lultitude  whom  none  can  number,  of 
all  nations  and  tribes  and  peoples  and  tongues,  who 
cry  with  a  loud  voice.  Salvation  unto  our  God  who 
aitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb.  Through 
Him  it  pleased  the  Father  to  reconcile  all  things  untc 
Himself,  through  Him,  whether  things  upon  the  earth 
or  things  in  the  heavens.  And  surely  the  supreme 
hour  in  the  history  of  the  universe  was  when,  in  flesh, 
the  sore  stricken  but  now  the  all-conquering  Christ  re- 
entered His  native  heaven. 

And  He  sat  down  at  the  right  hand  of  God.  The 
expression  is,  beyond  all  controversy,  borrowed  from 
that  great  Psalm  which  begins  by  saying,  *'  The  Lord 
said  unto  my  Lord,  Sit  thou  at  My  right  hand/'  and 
which  presently  makes  the  announcement  never 
revealed  until  then,  "  Thou  art  a  Priest  for  ever  after 
the  order  of  Melchizedec  "  (Ps.  ex.  I,  4).  It  is  there- 
fore an  anticipation  of  the  argument  for  the  royal 
Priesthood  of  Jesus  which  is  developed  in  the  Epistle 
to  the  Hebrews.  Now  priesthood  is  a  human  function: 
every  high  priest  is  chosen  from  among  men.  And 
the  Ascension  proclaims  to  us,  not  the  Divinity  of  the 
Eternal  Word  but  the  glorification  of  "the  Lord 
Jesus  ;  "  not  the  omnipotence  of  God  the  Son,  but  that 
all  power  is  committed  unto  Him  Who  is  not  ashamed 
to  call  us  brethren,  that  His  human  hands  wield  the 
aceptre  as  once  they  held  the  reed,  and  the  brows  then 
insulted  and  torn  with  thorns  are  now  crowned  with 
many  crowns.  In  the  overthrow  of  Satan  He  won 
all,  and  infinitely  more  than  all,  of  that  vast  bribe 
which    Satan    once  offered  for    His  homage,  and    the 


446  <;OSPEL   OF  ST.   MARX. 

aijgels  for  ever  worship  Him  who  would  not  for  t 
moment  bend  Hii  knee  to  evil. 

Now  since  He  conquered  not  for  Himself  but  as 
Captain  of  our  Salvation,  the  Ascension  also  proclaims 
the  issue  of  all  the  holy  suffering,  all  the  baffled  efiorts, 
all  the  cross-bearing  of  all  who  follow  Christ. 

His  High  Priesthood  is  with  authority.  "  Every 
high  priest  standeth/'  but  He  has  for  ever  sat  down 
on  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of  the  majesty  in  the 
heavens,  a  Priest  sitting  upon  His  throne  (Heb.  viii.  i ; 
Zech.  vi.  13).  And  therefore  it  is  His  office,  Who 
pleads  for  us  and  represents  us,  Himself  to  govern 
our  destinies.  No  wonder  that  His  early  followers, 
with  minds  which  He  had  opened  to  understand  the 
Scriptures,  were  mighty  to  cast  down  strongholds. 
Against  tribulation  and  anguish  and  persecution  and 
famine  and  nakedness  and  peril  and  sword  they  were 
more  than  conquerors  through  Him.  For  He  worked 
with  them  and  confirmed  His  word  with  signs.  And 
we  have  seen  that  He  works  with  His  people  still,  and 
still  confirms  His  gospel,  only  withdrawing  signs  of 
one  order  as  those  of  another  kind  are  multiplied. 
Wherever  they  wage  a  faithful  battle.  He  gives  them 
victory.  Whenever  they  cry  to  Him  in  anguish,  the 
form  of  the  Son  of  God  is  with  them  in  the  furnace, 
and  the  smell  of  fire  does  not  pass  upon  them.  Where 
they  come,  the  desert  blossoms  as  a  rose ;  and  where 
they  are  received,  the  serpents  of  life  no  longer  sting, 
its  fevers  grow  cool,  and  the  demons  which  rend  it  an 
cast  oul. 


THE     GOSPEL 

ACeORDIIHI  19 

ST.    LUKE, 


RSNRY    BURTON,    M.A. 


NEW  YORK 

A.  C.  ARMSTRONG  AND  SON 

3  and  5  West  Eighteenth  Street 

London:  Hodder  and  Stoughton 

1903 


CONTENTS* 


CHAPTER  L 
Tta  QWHTsa  or  ths  gospel  •••«■! 

CHAPTER  IL 
TKB  HUTS  P1RJEST  .  •••••«••     If 

CHAPTER  IIL 

TMI  GOSPEL  PSALMS  •••••••     tQ 

CHAPTER  IV, 

VIRGIN   MOTHER         •..*••  •47 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  ADORATION    OF   THE   SHEPHERDS     •  •  •  •  •     ^7 

CHAPTER  VL 
THE  VOICE  IN    THE  WILDERNESS     .••••«     8o 

CHAPTER  VIL 
THE  TEMPXATIOII    •••••##•••0$ 

CHAPTER  Via 
THE  GOSPEL  OE    THE  JUBILEE  ••••••  M 


li  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    IX 
A  lABBATB  or  GALUJCI  ..•##«  I4B 

CHAPTER   X. 

IBS  CALLINO  OF  THE  FOUR  .  .••««•  l6a 

CHAPTER   XL 

OONCSRNIIfO  PRAYKR       .  .  .•••«•  177 

CHAPTER    Xli 

tn  FAITH  OF  THX  CENTURION      .  •  •         •         •  •  195 

CHAPTER   XIIL 

THE  ANOINTING  OF  THE  FEET         .  •  •         •         •  •  909 

CHAPTER   XIV. 
THX  PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER         .  •         •         •         •         •  S35 

CHAPTER   XV. 

IBS  KDfGDOM  OF  GOD    ...«•••  t4I 

CHAPTER   XVI 

IBX  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING  .  ••*•«•  tS5 

CHAPTER   XVIL 
rHX  MIRACLB  OF  THE  LOAVES       .  •         •         *         ^         •  969 

CHAPTER   XVm, 

not  TRAXSFIGURATIOM  .•••««#•  fil 

CHAPTER   XDL 
GOOD  lAMAlUTAa    .  -^  ..•;;.  tM 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XX. 
THE  TWO  SISTERB  ....•••••  3^ 

CHAPTER    XXL 
LOST  AlfD  FOUND «         •  •  $17 

CHAPTER    XXIL 
THS  ETHICS  OF  THE  GOSPEL  ...«•••  S5^ 

CHAPTER    XXI IL 
THE  ESCHATOLOGY  OF  THE  GOSPEL         .  •  •  •  •  S5* 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 
THE  WATCH   IN   GETHSEMANE  .•••••  8^ 

CHAPTER    XXV. 
THE  PASSION •         •  •         •  S77 

CHAPTER   XXVL 

IBI  FIRST  cord's  DAY  .  .  •  •         •  I         •  ¥^ 


CHAPTER  L 

THE  GENESIS  OF  THE  GOSPEL, 

THE  four  walls  and  the  twelve  gates  of  the  Seer 
looked  in  different  directions,  but  together  they 
guarded,  and  opened  into,  one  City  of  God.  So  the 
four  Gospels  look  in  different  directions;  each  has  its  own 
peculiar  aspect  and  inscription ;  but  together  they  lead 
towards,  and  unveil,  one  Christ,  "  which  is,  and  which 
was,  and  which  is  to  come,  the  Almighty."  They  are  the 
successive  quarterings  of  the  one  Light  We  call  them 
"  four "  Gospels,  though  in  reality  they  form  but  one, 
just  as  the  seven  arches  of  colour  weave  one  bow ;  and 
that  there  should  be  four,  and  not  three  or  five,  was 
the  purpose  and  design  of  the  Mind  which  is  above  all 
minds.  There  are  "  diversities  of  operations  "  even  in 
making  Testaments,  New  or  Old ;  but  it  is  one  Spirit 
who  is  "  over  all,  and  in  all ; "  and  back  of  all  diversity 
is  a  heavenly  unity — a  unity  that  is  not  broken,  but 
rather  beautified,  by  the  variety  of  its  component  parts. 
Turning  to  the  third  Gospel,  its  opening  sentences 
strike  a  key-note  unlike  the  tone  of  the  other  three. 
Matthew,  the  Levite  Apostle,  schooled  in  the  receipt 
of  custom — where  parleying  and  preambling  were  not 
allowed — goes  to  his  subject  with  sharp  abruptness, 
beginning  his  story  with  a  "  genesis,"  "  the  book  of  the 
generation  of  Jesus  Christ."  Mark,  too,  and  John, 
without  staying  for  any  prelude,  proceed  at  once  to 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 


their  portrayals  of  the  Divine  Life,  each  starting 
with  the  same  word  "  beginning  " — though  between  the 
/'beginning"  of  St.  Mark  and  that  of  St.  John  there  is 
room  for  an  eternity.  St.  Luke,  on  the  other  hand, 
stays  to  give  to  his  Gospel  a  somewhat  lengthy  preface, 
a  kind  of  vestibule,  where  we  become  acquainted 
with  the  presence  and  personality  of  the  verger,  before 
passing  within  the  temple  proper. 

It  is  true  the  Evangelist  does  not  here  inscribe  hit 
name ;  it  is  true  that  after  inserting  these  lines  of 
explanation,  he  loses  sight  of  himself  completely,  with 
a  "sublime  repressing  of  himself"  such  as  John  did 
not  know ;  but  that  he  here  throws  the  shadow  of  him- 
self upon  the  page  of  Scripture,  calling  the  attention  of 
all  people  and  ages  to  the  "me  also,"  shows  clearly 
that  the  personal  element  cannot  be  eliminated  from  the 
question  of  inspiration.  Light  is  the  same  in  its  nature; 
it  moves  only  in  straight  lines ;  it  is  governed  by  fixed 
laws ;  but  in  its  reflections  it  is  infinitely  varied,  turn- 
ing to  purple,  blue,  or  gold,  according  to  the  nature  of 
the  medium  and  reflecting  substance.  And  what,  indeed, 
is  beauty,  what  the  harmony  of  colours,  but  the  visible 
music  as  the  same  light  plays  upon  the  diverse  keys  ? 
Exactly  the  same  law  rules  in  inspiration.  As  the 
Divine  Love  needed  an  incarnation,  an  inshrining  in 
human  flesh,  that  the  Divine  Word  might  be  vocal,  so 
the  Divine  Light  needs  its  incarnation  too.  Indeed,  we 
can  scarcely  conceive  of  any  revelation  of  the  Divine 
Mind  but  as  coming  through  a  human  mind.  It  needs 
the  human  element  to  analyze  and  to  throw  it  forward, 
just  as  the  electric  spark  needs  the  dull  carbon-point  to 
make  it  visible.  Heaven  and  earth  are  here,  as  else- 
where, "  threads  of  the  same  loom,"  and  if  we  take  out 
one,  even  the  earthly  woof  of  the  humanities,  we  leave 


THE  GENESIS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


only  a  tangle ;  and  if  it  is  true  of  works  of  art  that  "  to 
know  them  we  must  know  the  man  who  produced  them/' 
It  is  equally  important,  if  we  would  know  the  Scripture, 
that  we  have  some  knowledge  of  the  scribe.  And 
especially  important  is  it  here,  for  there  are  few  books 
of  Scripture  on  which  the  writer's  own  personality  is 
more  deeply  impressed  than  on  the  Gospel  of  St.  Luke. 
The  "me  also"  is  only  legible  in  the  third  verse,  but 
we  may  read  it,  between  the  lines,  through  the  whole 
Gospel 

Concerning  the  Hfe  of  St  Luke  the  facts  are  few. 
It  has  been  thought  by  some  that  he  was  one  of  the 
**  certain  Greeks  "  who  came  to  Jerusalem  to  worship  ; 
while  others,  again,  suppose  him  to  be  the  nameless  one 
of  the  two  Emmaus  travellers.  But  both  these  sup- 
positions are  set  aside  by  the  fact  that  the  Evangelist 
carefully  separates  himself  from  those  who  were  "  eye- 
witnesses," which  he  could  not  well  have  done  had  he 
taken  part  in  those  closing  scenes  of  the  Lord's  life,  or 
had  he  been  honoured  with  that  "infallible  proof"  of  the 
Lord's  resurrection.  That  he  was  a  Gentile  is  evident ; 
his  speech  bewrayeth  him ;  for  he  speaks  with  a  Grecian 
accent,  while  Greek  idioms  are  sprinkled  over  his  pages. 
Indeed,  St.  Paul  speaks  of  him  as  not  being  of  the 
"  circumcision "  (Col.  iv.  1 1,  14),  and  he  himself,  in 
Acts  i.  19,  speaks  of  the  dwellers  at  Jerusalem,  and 
the  Aceldama  of  "their"  proper  tongue.  Tradition, 
with  unanimous  voice,  represents  him  as  a  native  of 
Antioch,  in  Syria. 

Responding  to  the  Divine  Voice  that  bids  him 
"  write,"  St.  Luke  brings  to  the  task  new  and  special 
qualifications.  Familiar  with  the  Old  Testament 
Scriptures — at  least  in  their  Septuagint  form,  as  his 
many  quotations  show-  -intimately  acquainted  with  the 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 


Hebrew  faith  and  ritual,  he  yet  brings  to  his  work  a 
mind  unwarped  by  its  traditions.  He  knows  nothing 
of  that  narrowness  of  spirit  that  Hebraism  uncon- 
sciously engendered,  with  its  insulation  from  the  great 
outer  world.  His  mount  of  vision  was  not  Mount  Zion, 
but  a  new  Pisgah,  lying  outside  the  sacred  borders, 
and  showing  him  "  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,"  as 
the  Divine  thought  of  humanity  took  possession  of  him. 
And  not  only  so,  we  must  remember  that  his  connection 
with  Christianity  has  been  mainly  through  St.  Paul, 
who  was  the  Apo  tl  of  the  "  uncircumcision."  For 
months,  if  not  for  years,  he  has  been  his  close  com- 
panion, reading  his  innermost  thoughts ;  and  so  long 
and  so  close  together  have  they  been,  their  two  hearts 
have  learned  to  beat  in  a  perfect  synchronism.  Besides, 
we  must  not  forget  that  the  Gentile  question — their 
status  in  the  new  kingdom,  and  the  conditions  demanded 
of  them — had  been  the  burning  question  of  the  early 
Church,  and  that  it  was  at  this  same  Antioch  it  had 
reached  its  height.  It  was  at  Antioch  the  Apostle  Peter 
had  "  dissembled,"  so  soon  forgetting  the  lessons  of 
the  Caesarean  Pentecost,  holding  himself  aloof  from  the 
Gentile  converts  until  Paul  felt  constrained  to  rebuke 
him  publicly ;  and  it  was  to  Antioch  came  the  decree 
of  the  Jerusalem  Council,  that  Magna  Charta  which 
recognized  and  enfranchised  manhood,  giving  the 
privileges  of  the  new  kingdom  to  Gentiles,  without 
imposing  upon  them  the  Judaic  anachronism  of  cir- 
cumcision. We  can  therefore  well  understand  the  bent 
of  St.  Luke's  mind  and  the  drift  of  his  sympathies; 
and  we  may  expect  that  his  pen — though  it  is  a  reed 
shaken  with  the  breath  of  a  higher  inspiration — will 
at  the  same  time  move  in  the  direction  of  these 
sympathies. 


THE  GENESIS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


And  it  is  exactly  this — its  "  gentility,"  if  we  may  be 
allowed  to  give  a  new  accent  and  a  new  meaning  to  an 
old  word — that  is  a  prominent  feature  of  the  third 
Gospel.  Not,  however,  that  St.  Luke  decries  Judaism, 
or  that  he  denies  the  "  advantage  "  the  Jews  have ;  he 
cannot  do  this  without  erasing  Scripture  and  silencing 
history  ;  but  what  he  does  is  to  lift  up  the  Son  of  Man 
in  front  of  their  tabernacle  of  witness.  He  does  not 
level  down  Judaism ;  he  levels  up  Christianity,  letting 
humanity  absorb  nationality.  And  so  the  Gospel  ot 
St  Luke  is  the  Gospel  of  the  world,  greeting  "all 
nations,  and  kindreds,  and  peoples,  and  tongues  "  with 
its  "  peace  on  earth."  St.  Matthew  traces  the  genealogy 
of  Christ  back  to  Abraham  ;  St.  Luke  goes  farther  back, 
to  the  fountain-head,  where  all  the  divergent  streams 
meet  and  mingle,  as  he  traces  the  descent  to  Adam,  the 
Son  of  God.  Matthew  shows  us  the  "  wise  men,"  lost 
in  Jerusalem,  and  inquiring,  "  Where  is  He  that  is  bom 
King  of  the  Jews  ?  "  But  St.  Luke  gives,  instead,  the 
"  good  tidings  "  to  "  all  people ; "  and  then  he  repeats 
the  angel  song,  which  is  the  key-note  of  his  Gospel, 
"Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  .  .  .  goodwill  toward 
men."  It  is  St.  Luke  only  who  records  the  first 
discourse  at  Nazareth,  showing  how  in  ancient  times, 
even,  the  mercy  of  God  flowed  out  towards  a  Gentile 
widow  and  a  Gentile  leper.  St.  Luke  alone  mentions 
the  mission  of  the  Seventy,  whose  very  number  was  a 
prophecy  of  a  world-wide  Gospel,  seventy  being  the 
recognized  symbol  of  the  Gentile  world,  as  twelve 
stood  for  the  Hebrew  people.  St.  Luke  alone  gives 
us  the  parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan,  shoviring  that 
all  the  virtues  did  not  reside  in  Israel,  but  that  there 
was  more  of  humanity,  and  so  more  of  Divinity,  in  the 
compassionate   Samaritan    than    in    their    pdest    and 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST,  LUKE, 


Levite.  St.  Luke  alone  records  the  call  of  Zacchieni, 
the  Gentile  publican,  telling  how  Jesus  cancelled  then 
laws  of  heredity,  passing  him  up  among  the  sons  of 
Abraham.  St.  Luke  alone  gives  us  the  twin  parables 
of  the  lost  coin  and  the  lost  man,  showing  how  Jesus 
had  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost, 
which  was  humanity,  here,  and  there,  and  everywhere. 
And  so  there  breath  es  all  through  this  Gospel  a 
catholic  spirit,  more  pronounced  than  in  the  rest,  a 
spirit  whose  rhythm  and  deep  meaning  have  been 
caught  in  the  lines — 

"  There's  a  wideness  in  God's  mercy, 
Like  the  wideness  of  the  sea." 

The  only  other  fact  of  the  Evangelist's  life  we  will 
here  notice  is  that  of  his  profession  ;  and  we  notice 
this  simply  because  it  enters  as  a  factor  into  his  work, 
reappearing  there  frequently.  He  was  a  physician; 
and  from  this  fact  some  have  supposed  that  he  was  a 
freedman,  since  many  of  the  Roman  physicians  were 
of  that  class.  But  this  by  no  means  follows.  All  phy- 
sicians were  not  freedmen ;  while  the  language  and  style 
of  St  Luke  show  him  to  be  an  educated  man,  one,  too, 
who  walked  in  the  upper  classes  of  society.  Where  he 
speaks  natively,  as  here  in  the  introduction,  he  uses 
a  pure  Greek,  somewhat  rounded  and  ornate,  in  which 
there  is  a  total  absence  of  those  rusticisms  common 
in  St.  Mark.  That  he  followed  his  calling  at  Troas, 
where  he  first  joined  St  Paul,  is  probable ;  but  that  he 
practised  it  on  board  one  of  the  large  corn-ships  of  the 
Mediterranean  is  a  pure  conjecture,  for  which  even  his 
nautical  language  affords  no  presumption ;  for  one 
cannot  be  at  tea  for  a  few  weeks — especially  with  an 
observant  eye  and  attentive  ear,  as  St  Luke's  were~ 


THE  GENESIS  OF  THE  GOSPEL, 


without  falling  naturally  into  nautical  language.     One's 
speech  soon  tastes  of  salt. 

The  calling  of  a  physician  naturally  develops  cer- 
tain powers  of  analysis  and  synthesis.  It  is  the  art  of 
putting  things  together.  From  the  seen  or  felt  sym- 
toms  he  traces  out  the  unseen  cause.  Setting  down 
the  known  quantities,  by  processes  of  comparison  or  of 
elimination  he  finds  the  unknown  quantity,  which  is 
the  disease,  its  nature  and  its  seat.  And  so  on  the 
the  pages  of  the  third  Gospel  we  frequently  find  the 
shadow  of  the  physician.  It  appears  even  in  his  brief 
preface;  for  as  he  sits  down  with  ample  materials 
before  him — on  one  side  the  first-hand  testimony  of 
"  eye-witnesses,"  and  on  the  other  the  many  and  some- 
what garbled  narratives  of  anonymous  scribes — we  see 
the  physician- Evangelist  exercising  a  judicious  selec- 
tion, and  thus  compounding  or  distilling  his  pure 
elixir.  Then,  too,  a  skilled  and  educated  physician 
would  find  easy  access  into  the  higher  circles  of 
society,  his  very  calling  furnishing  him  with  letters 
of  introduction.  And  so,  indeed,  we  find  it.  Our 
physician  dedicates  his  Gospel,  and  also  the  "Acts," 
to,  not  the  "  most  excellent,"  but  the  "  most  noble " 
Theophilus,  giving  to  him  the  same  title  that  he  after- 
wards gave  to  Felix  and  to  Festus.  Perhaps  its  English 
equivalent  would  be  "the  honourable."  At  any  rate 
it  shows  that  this  Theophilus  was  no  mere  myth,  a 
locution  for  any  "  friend  of  God,"  but  that  he  was  a 
person  of  rank  and  influence,  possibly  a  Roman  go- 
vernor. Then,  too,  St.  Luke's  mention  of  certain  names 
omitted  by  the  other  Evangelists,  such  as  Chuza  and 
Manaen,  would  suggest  that  probably  he  had  some 
personal  acquaintance  with  the  members  of  Herod's 
household.       Be   this  as  it  may,   we  recognize    the 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 


"physician"  in  St.  Luke's  habits  of  observation,  hit 
attention  to  detail,  his  fondness  for  grouping  together 
resemblances  and  contrasts,  his  fuller  reference  to 
miracles  of  healing,  and  his  psychological  observations. 
We  find  in  him  a  student  of  the  humanities.  Even  in 
his  portrayal  of  the  Christ  it  is  the  human  side  of  the 
Divine  nature  that  he  emphasizes ;  while  all  through  his 
Gospel,  his  thought  of  humanity,  like  a  wide-reaching 
sky,  overlooks  and  embraces  all  such  earthly  distinc- 
tions as  position,  sex,  or  race. 

With  a  somewhat  high-sounding  word  "  Forasmuch," 
which  here  makes  its  solitary  appearance  in  the  pages 
of  Scripture — a  word,  too,  which,  like  its  English 
equivalent,  is  a  treble  compound— the  Evangelist  calls 
our  attention  to  his  work,  and  states  his  reasons  for 
undertaking  it.  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  fix  either 
the  date  or  the  place  where  this  Gospel  was  written, 
but  probably  it  was  some  time  between  a.d.  58-60. 
Now,  what  was  the  position  of  the  Church  at  that 
date,  thirty-five  years  after  the  Crucifixion  ?  The  fiery 
tongues  of  Pentecost  had  flashed  far  and  wide,  and 
from  their  heliogram  even  distant  nations  had  read  the 
message  of  peace  and  love.  Philip  had  witnessed  the 
wonderful  revival  in  "the  (a)  city  of  Samaria."  Antioch, 
Caesarea,  Damascus,  Lystra,  Philippi,  Athens,  Rome — 
these  names  indicate,  but  do  not  attempt  to  measure, 
the  wide  and  ever-widening  circle  of  light.  In  nearly 
every  town  of  any  size  there  is  the  nucleus  of  a  Church ; 
while  Apostles,  Evangelists,  and  Christian  merchants 
are  proclaiming  the  new  kingdom  and  the  new  laws 
everywhere.  And  since  the  visits  of  the  Apostles  would 
be  necessarily  brief,  it  would  only  be  a  natural  and 
general  wish  that  some  permanent  record  should  be 
made  of  their  narratives  and  teaching.     In  other  placet^ 


THE  GENESIS  OF  THE  GOSPEL, 


which  lay  back  of  the  line  of  Apostles'  travel,  the  story 
would  reach  them,  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth,  with 
all  the  additions  of  rumour,  and  exaggerations  of  Eastern 
loquacity.  It  is  to  these  ephemeral  Gospels  the  Evan- 
gelist now  refers;  and  distinguishing,  as  he  does,  the 
"  many  "  from  the  "  eye-witnesses  "  and  "  ministers  of 
the  word,"  he  shows  that  he  does  not  refer  to  the 
Gospels  of  St..  Matthew  and  St.  Mark — which  probably 
he  has  not  seen — for  one  was  an  Apostle,  and  both 
were  "eye-witnesses."  There  is  no  censure  implied 
in  these  words,  nor  does  the  expression  "taken  in 
hand"  in  itself  imply  failure;  but  evidently,  to  St. 
Luke's  mind,  these  manifold  narratives  were  incomplete 
and  unsatisfactory.  They  contain  some  of  the  truth, 
but  not  all  that  the  world  should  know.  Some  are  put 
together  by  unskilled  hands,  and  some  have  more  or 
less  of  fable  blended  with  them.  They  need  sifting, 
winnowing,  that  the  chaff  may  be  blown  away,  and  the 
seed  tares  separated  from  the  wheat.  Such  is  the 
physician's  reason  for  now  assuming  the  rdU  of  an 
Evangelist.  The  "forasmuch,"  befcwe  being  entered 
on  the  pages  of  his  Scriptures,  had  struck  upon  the 
Evangelist's  soul,  setting  it  vibrating  like  a  bell,  and 
moving  mind  and  hand  alike  in  sympathy. 

And  80  we  see  how,  in  ways  simple  and  purely 
natural.  Scripture  grows.  St.  Luke  was  not  conscious 
of  any  special  influence  resting  upon  him.  He  did  not 
pose  as  an  oracle  or  as  the  mouthpiece  of  an  oracle, 
though  he  was  all  that,  and  vastly  more.  He  does  not 
even  know  that  he  is  doing  any  great  work ;  and  who 
ever  does  ?  A  generous,  unselfish  thought  takes  pos- 
session of  him.  He  will  sacrifice  leisure  and  ease,  that 
he  may  throw  forward  to  others  the  light  that  has 
fallen  upon  his  own  heart  and  life.     He  will  be  a  truth* 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE, 


seeker,  and  a  light-bearer  for  others.  Here,  then,  W€ 
tee  how  a  human  mind  falls  into  gear  with  the  Divine 
mind,  and  human  thought  gets  into  the  rhythm  and 
•wing  of  the  higher  thought.  Simply  natural,  purely 
human  are  all  his  processes  of  reasoning,  comparing, 
and  planning,  and  the  whole  Gospel  is  but  the  perfect 
bloom  of  this  seed-thought.  But  whence  came  this 
thought  ?  That  is  the  question.  Did  it  not  grow  out 
of  these  manifold  narratives?  and  did  not  the  narra- 
tives themselves  grow  out  of  the  wonderful  Life,  the 
Life  which  was  itself  but  a  Divine  Thought  and  Word 
incarnate?  And  so  we  cannot  separate  heaven  from 
earth,  we  cannot  eliminate  the  Divine  from  even  our 
little  lives;  and  though  St.  Luke  did  not  recognize  it 
as  such — he  was  an  ordinary  man,  doing  an  ordinary 
thing — yet  we,  standing  a  few  centuries  back,  and 
seeing  how  the  Church  has  hidden  in  her  ark  the  omer 
of  manna  that  he  gathered,  to  be  carried  on  and  down 
till  time  itself  shall  be  no  more,  we  see  another 
Apocalyptic  vision,  and  we  hear  a  Voice  Divine  that 
commands  him  "write."  When  St.  Luke  wrote,  "It 
seemed  good  to  me  also,"  he  doubtless  wrote  the  pro- 
noun small ;  for  it  was  the  "  me  "  of  his  obscure,  retiring 
self;  but  high  above  the  human  thought  we  see  the 
Divine  purpose,  and  as  we  watch,  the  smaller  "me" 
grows  into  the  ME,  which  is  a  shadow  of  the  great 
I  AM.  And  so  while  the  "many"  treatises,  those 
which  were  purely  human,  have  passed  out  of  sight, 
buried  deep  in  their  unknown  sepulchres,  this  Gospel 
has  survived  and  become  immortal — ^immortal  because 
God  was  back  of  it,  and  God  was  in  it. 

So  in  the  mind  of  St  Luke  the  thought  ripens  into 
a  purpose.  Since  others  ''have  taken  in  hand"  to 
draw  up  a  narrative  concerning  those  matters  which 


THE  GENESIS  OF  THE  GOSPEL, 


have  been  "  fulfilled  among  us,"  he  himself  will  do  the 
same ;  for  has  he  not  a  special  fitness  for  the  task,  and 
peculiar  advantages?     He  has   long   been   intimately 
associated  with  those  who  from  the  very  first   were 
"  eye-witnesses  and  ministers  of  the  Word,"  the  chosen 
companion  of  one  Apostle,  and  doubtless,  owing  to  his 
visit  to  Jerusalem  and  to  his  prolonged  residence  at 
Caesarea,   personally   acquainted   with   the   rest     His 
shall  not  be  a  Gospel  of  surmise  or  of  rumour ;  it  shall 
only  contain  the  record  of  facts — facts  which  he  himself 
has  investigated,  and  for  the  truth  of  which  he  gives 
his  guarantee.     The  clause  "having  traced  the  course 
of  all  things   accurately  from  the  first" — which  is  a 
more  exact  rendering   than   that    of  the  Authorized 
Version,  "having  had  perfect  understanding  of  all  things 
from  the  very  first" — shows  us  the  keen,   searching 
eye  of  the  physician.      He   looks  into  things.      He 
distinguishes  between  the  To  seem  and  the  To  be,  the 
actual  and  the  apparent     He  takes  nothing  for  granted, 
but  proves  all  things.     He  investigates  his  facts  before 
he   endorses  them,  sounding   them,  as   it   were,   and 
reading  not  only  their  outer  voice,  which  may  be  as- 
sumed, and   so  untrue,   but  with   his   stethoscope  of 
patient  research   listening  for  the   unconscious  voices 
that  speak  within,  and  so  finding  out  the  reality.     He 
himself  is  committed  to  nothing.     He  is  not  anxious 
to  make  up  a  story.     Himself  a  searcher  after  truth, 
his  one  concern  is  to  know,  and  then  to  tell,  the  truth, 
naturally,   simply,    with    no    fictitious    adornment    or 
dressing  up  of  his  own.     And  having  submitted  the 
facts  of  the  Divine  Life  to  a  close  scrutiny,  and  satis- 
fied himself  of  their  absolute  truth,  and  having  thrown 
aside  the  many  guesses  and   fables   which  somehow 
have  wo>«n  themselves  around  the  wonderful  Nam€^ 


It  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

he  wUl  write  down,  in  historical  order  as  far  as  may  be, 
the  story,  so  that  his  friend  Theophilus  may  know 
the  "certainty  of  the  things"  in  which  he  has  been 
"instructed,"  or  orally  catechized,  as  the  word  would 
mean.  % 

Wherc^  then,  it  may  be  asked,  is  there  room  for  ;. 
inspiration  ?  If  the  genesis  of  the  Gospel  is  so  purely  - 
human,  where  is  there  room  for  the  touch  of  the 
Divine?  Why  should  the  Gospel  of  St.  Luke  be 
canonized,  incorporated  into  Holy  Scripture,  while  the 
writings  of  others  are  thrown  back  into  an  Apocrypha, 
or  still  farther  back  into  oblivion  ?  The  very  questions 
will  suggest  an  answer.  That  touch  of  the  Divine 
which  we  call  inspiration  is  not  always  an  equal  ^ 
touch.  Now  it  is  a  pressiu^e  from  above  that  is  over- 
whelming. The  writer  is  carried  out  of  himself, 
borne  up  into  regions  where  Sight  and  Reason  in 
their  loftiest  flights  cannot  come,  as  the  prophet  fore- 
tells events  no  human  mind  could  foresee,  much  less 
describe.  In  the  case  of  St.  Luke  there  was  no  need 
for  this  abnormal  pressure,  or  for  these  prophetic 
ecstasies.  He  was  to  record,  for  the  most  part,  facts 
of  recent  occurrence,  facts  that  had  been  witnessed, 
and  could  now  be  attested,  by  persons  still  living; 
and  a  fact  is  a  fact,  whether  it  is  inspired  or  no. 
Inspiration  may  record  a  fact,  while  others  are  omitted, 
showing  that  this  fact  has  a  certain  value  above  others ; 
but  if  it  is  true,  inspiration  itself  cannot  make  it  more 
true.  Nevertheless,  there  is  the  touch  of  the  Divine 
even  here.  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  new  depar- 
ture? for  it  is  a  new  and  a  wide  departure.  Why 
does  not  Thomas  write  a  Gospel  ?  or  Philip,  or  Paul  ? 
Why  should  the  Evangelist-mantle  be  carried  outside 
the  bounds  of  the  sacred  land,  to  be  thrown  around 


THE  GENESIS   OF  THE   GOSPEL.  13 

a  Gentile,  who  cannot  speak  the  sacred  tongue  except 
with  a  foreign  Shibboleth  ?  Ah,  we  see  here  the 
movings  of  the  Holy  Ghost  I  selecting  the  separate 
agents  for  the  separate  tasks,  and  dividing  to  "  every 
man  severally  as  He  will."  And  not  only  does  the 
Holy  Spirit  summon  him  to  the  work.  He  qualifies 
him  for  it,  furnishing  him  with  materials,  and  guiding 
his  mind  as  to  what  shall  be  omitted  and  what  retained. 
It  is  the  same  Spirit,  who  moved  "  holy  men  of  old  " 
to  speak  and  write  the  things  of  God,  who  now  touches 
the  mind  and  heart  of  the  four  Evangelists,  enabling 
them  to  give  the  four  versions  of  the  one  Story,  in 
different  language,  and  with  sundry  differences  of 
detail,  but  with  no  contradiction  of  thought,  each 
being,  in  a  sense,  the  complement  of  the  rest,  the  four 
quarters  making  one  rounded  and  perfect  whole. 

Perhaps  at  first  sight  our  subject  may  not  seem  to 
have  any  reference  to  our  smaller  lives;  for  who  of 
us  can  be  Evangelists  or  Apostles,  in  the  highest 
meaning  of  the  words  ?  And  yet  it  has,  if  we  look 
into  it,  a  very  practical  bearing  upon  our  lives,  even 
the  commonplace,  every-day  life.  Whence  come  our 
gifts  ?  Who  makes  these  gifts  to  differ  ?  Who  gives 
us  the  differing  taste  and  nature?  for  we  are  not 
consulted  as  to  our  nature  any  more  than  as  to  our 
nativities.  The  fact  is,  our  "human"  is  touched  by 
the  Divine  at  every  point.  What  are  the  chequered 
scenes  of  our  lives  but  the  black  or  the  white  squares 
to  which  the  Unseen  Hand  moves  us  at  will  ?  Earth's 
problem  is  but  Heaven's  purpose.  And  are  not  we, 
too,  writing  scriptures?  putting  God's  thoughts  into 
words  and  deeds,  so  that  men  may  read  them  and 
know  them?  Verily  we  are;  and  our  writing  is  for 
eternity.     In  the  volume  of  our  book  are  no  omissions 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 


or  erasures.  Listen,  then,  to  the  heavenly  call.  Be 
obedient  to  your  heavenly  vision.  Leave  mind  and 
heart  open  to  the  play  of  the  Divine  Spirit  Keep 
self  out  of  sight  Delight  in  God's  will,  and  do  it 
So  will  you  make  your  lowlier  life  another  Testament, 
written  over  with  Gospels  and  Epistles,  and  closing  at 
last  with  an  Apocalypse. 


CHAPTER   a 

THE  MUTE  PRIEST. 

Luu  L  5-25,  57-8a 

AFTER  his  personal  prelude,  our  Evangelist  goes 
on  to  give  in  detail  the  pre-Advent  revelations, 
to  connecting  the  thread  of  his  narrative  with  the 
broken-ofif  thread  of  the  Old  Testament.  His  language, 
however,  suddenly  changes  its  character  and  accent; 
and  its  frequent  Hebraisms  show  plainly  that  he  is  no 
longer  giving  his  own  words,  but  that  he  is  simply 
recording  the  narratives  as  they  were  told  him,  pos- 
sibly by  some  member  of  the  Holy  Family. 

"  There  was  in  the  days  of  Herod,  king  of  Judaea." 
Even  the  surface-reader  of  Scripture  will  observe  how 
little  is  made  in  its  pages  of  the  time-element.  There 
is  a  purposed  vagueness  in  its  chronology,  which 
scarcely  accords  with  our  Western  ideas  of  accuracy 
and  precision.  We  observe  times  and  seasons.  We 
strike  oflf  the  years  with  the  clang  of  bells  or  the 
hush  of  solemn  services.  Each  day  with  us  is  lifted 
up  into  prominence,  having  a  personality  and  history 
all  its  own,  and  as  we  write  its  history,  we  keep  it 
clear  of  all  its  to-morrows  and  its  yesterdays.  And 
so  the  day  grows  naturally  into  a  date,  and  dates  com- 
bine into  chronologies,  where  everything  is  sharp,  exact. 
Not  so,  however,  was  it,  or  indeed  is  it,  in  the  Eastern 


i6  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

world.  Time  there,  if  we  may  speak  temporally,  wat 
of  little  moment  To  that  slow-moving  and  slow- 
thinking  world  one  day  was  a  trifle,  something  atomic ; 
it  took  a  number  of  them  to  make  an  appreciable 
quantity.  And  so  they  divided  their  time,  in  ordinary 
speech,  not  minutely  as  we  do,  but  into  larger  periods, 
measuring  its  distances  by  the  shadows  of  their  striking 
events.  Why  is  it  that  we  have  four  Gospels,  and 
in  fact  a  whole  New  Testament,  without  a  date  ?  for 
it  cannot  possibly  be  a  chance  omission.  Is  the  time- 
element  so  subdued  and  set  back,  lest  the  "things 
temporal "  should  lead  off  our  minds  from  the  "  things 
spiritual  and  eternal"?  For  what  is  time,  after  all, 
but  a  negative  quantity?  an  empty  space,  in  itself 
all  silent  and  dead,  until  our  thoughts  and  deeds  strike 
against  it  and  make  it  vocal  ?  Nay,  even  in  the 
heavenly  life  we  see  the  same  losing  of  the  time- 
element,  for  we  read,  **  There  should  be  time  no 
longer."  Not  that  it  will  then  disappear,  swallowed 
up  in  that  infinite  duration  we  call  eternity.  That 
would  make  heaven  a  confusion ;  for  to  finite  minds 
eternity  itself  must  come  in  measured  beats,  striking, 
Hke  the  waves  along  the  shore,  in  rhythmic  intervals. 
But  our  time  will  be  no  longer.  It  must  needs  be 
transfigured,  ceasing  to  be  earthly,  that  it  may  become 
heavenly  in  its  measurement  and  in  its  speech.  And 
so  in  the  Bible,  which  is  a  Divine-human  book, 
written  for  the  ages,  God  has  purposely  veiled  the 
times,  at  any  rate  the  "  days  "  of  earthly  reckoning. 
Even  the  day  of  our  Lord's  birth,  and  the  day  of  His 
death,  our  chronologies  cannot  determine :  we  measure, 
we  guess,  but  it  is  randomly,  like  the  blinded  men 
of  Sodom,  who  wearied  themselves  to  find  the  door. 
In   Heaven's   reckoning  deeds   are   more   than   days. 


i.  5-aS»  S7-80.]  THE  MUTE  PRIEST,  17 

Time-beats  by  themselves  are  only  broken  silences, 
but  put  a  soul  among  them,  and  you  make  songs, 
anthems,  and  all  kinds  of  music.  "  In  those  days  "  may 
be  a  common  Hebraism,  but  may  it  not  be  something 
more?  may  it  not  be  an  idiom  of  celestial  speech, 
the  heavenly  way  of  referring  to  earthly  things  ?  At 
any  rate  we  know  this,  that  while  Heaven  is  careful 
to  give  us  the  purpose,  the  promise,  and  the  fulfilment, 
the  Divine  Spirit  does  not  care  to  give  us  the  exact 
moment  when  the  promise  became  a  realization. 
And  that  it  is  so  shows  that  it  is  best  it  should  be 
so.     Silence  sometimes  may  be  better  than  speech. 

But  in  saying  all  this  we  do  not  say  that  Heaven 
is  unobservant  of  earthly  times  and  seasons.  They 
are  a  part  of  the  Divine  order,  stamped  on  all  lives, 
on  all  worlds.  Our  days  and  nights  keep  their  alter- 
nate step ;  our  seasons  observe  their  processional  order, 
singing  in  antiphonal  responses ;  while  our  world, 
geared  in  with  other  worlds,  strikes  off  our  earthly 
years  and  days  with  an  absolute  precision.  So,  now 
the  time  of  the  Advent  has  been  Divinely  chosen 
for  whole  millenniums  unalterably  fixed ;  nor  have  the 
cries  of  Israel's  impatient  hopes  been  allowed  to  hurry 
forward  the  Divine  purpose,  so  making  it  premature. 
But  why  should  the  Advent  be  so  long  delayed  ?  In 
our  off-handed  way  of  thinking  we  might  have  sup- 
posed the  Redeemer  would  have  come  directly  after 
the  Fall ;  and  as  far  as  Heaven  was  concerned,  there 
was  no  reason  why  the  Incarnation  and  the  Redemption 
should  not  be  efiected  immediately.  The  Divine  Son 
was  even  then  prepared  to  lay  aside  His  glories,  and 
to  become  incarnate.  He  might  have  been  born  of  the 
Virgin  of  Eden,  as  well  as  of  the  Virgin  of  Galilee ; 
and  even  then  He  might  have  offered  unto  God  that 

a 


i8  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST,    LUKE. 

perfect  obedience  by  which  the  "  many  are  made 
righteous."  Why,  then,  this  strange  delay,  as  the 
months  lengthen  into  years,  and  the  years  into  cen- 
turies ?  The  Patriarchs  come  and  go,  and  only  see  the 
promise  "afar  oflf."  Then  come  centuries  of  oppres- 
sion, as  Canaan  is  completely  eclipsed  by  the  dark 
shadow  of  Egypt;  then  the  Exodus,  the  wanderings, 
the  conquest.  The  Judges  administer  a  rough-handed 
justice ;  Kings  play  with  their  little  crowns ;  Prophets 
rebuke  and  prophesy,  telling  of  the  "  Wonderful "  who 
shall  be;  but  still  the  Messiah  delays  His  coming. 
Why  this  strange  postponement  of  the  world's  hopes, 
as  if  prophecy  dealt  in  illusions  only  ?  We  find  the 
answer  in  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Galatians  (chap, 
iv.  4).  The  "  fulness  of  the  time  "  was  not  yet  come. 
The  time  was  maturing,  but  was  not  yet  ripe.  Heaven 
was  long  ago  prepared  for  an  Incarnation,  but  Earth 
was  not ;  and  had  the  Advent  occurred  at  an  earlier 
stage  of  the  world's  history,  it  would  have  been  an 
anachronism  the  age  would  have  misunderstood.  There 
must  be  a  leading  up  to  God's  gifts,  or  His  blessings 
cease  to  be  blessings.  The  world  must  be  prepared 
for  the  Christ,  or  virtually  He  is  no  Christ,  no  Saviour 
to  them.  The  Christ  must  come  into  the  world's  mind 
as  a  familiar  thought,  He  must  come  into  the  world's 
heart  as  a  deep-felt  need,  before  He  can  come  as  the 
Word  Incarnate. 

And  when  is  this  "  fulness  of  the  time  *'  ?  "  In  the 
days  of  Herod,  king  of  Judaea."  Such  is  the  phrase 
that  now  strikes  the  Divine  hour,  and  leads  in  the 
dawn  of  a  new  dispensation.  And  what  dark  days 
were  those  to  the  Hebrew  people,  when  on  the  throne 
of  their  David  sat  that  Idumean  shadow  of  the  dread 
Caesar  I    Their  land  swarms  with  Gentile  hordes,  and 


i.  S-aS»  57-80.]  THE  MUTE  PRIEST.  If 

on  the  soil  devoted  to  Jehovah  rise  stately,  splendid 
temples,  dedicated  to  strange  gods.  It  is  one  irruption 
of  Paganism,  as  if  the  Roman  Pantheon  had  emptied 
itself  upon  the  Holy  Land.  Nay,  it  seemed  as  if  the 
Hebrew  faith  itself  would  become  extinct,  strangled 
by  heathen  fables,  or  at  any  rate  that  she  would 
survive,  only  the  ghost  of  her  other  self,  walking  like 
an  apparition,  with  veiled  face  and  sealed  lips,  amid  the 
scenes  of  her  former  glories.  "The days  of  Herod" 
were  the  Hebrew  midnight,  but  they  give  us  the  Bright 
and  Morning  Star.  And  so  upon  this  dial-plate  of 
Scripture  the  great  Herod,  with  all  his  royalties,  is 
nothing  more  than  the  dark,  empty  shadow  which 
marks  a  Divine  hour,  "the  fulness  of  the  time." 

Israel's  corporate  life  began  with  four  centuries  of 
silence  and  oppression,  when  Egypt  gave  them  the 
doubled  task,  and  Heaven  grew  strangely  still,  giving 
them  neither  voice  nor  vision.  Is  it  but  one  of  the 
chance  repetitions  of  history  that  Israel's  national  life 
should  end,  too,  with  four  hundred  years  of  silence  ? 
for  such  is  the  coincidence,  if,  indeed,  we  may  not  call 
it  something  more.  It  is,  however,  just  such  a  coin- 
cidence as  the  Hebrew  mind,  quick  to  trace  resemblances 
and  to  discern  signs,  would  grasp  firmly  and  eagerly. 
It  would  revive  their  long-deferred  and  dying  hopes, 
overlaying  the  near  future  with  its  gold.  Possibly  it 
was  this  very  coincidence  that  now  transformed  their 
hope  into  expectation,  and  set  their  hearts  listening 
for  the  advent  of  the  Messiah.  Did  not  Moses  come 
when  the  task  was  doubled  ?  And  was  not  the  four 
hundred  years'  silence  broken  by  the  thunders  of  the 
Exodus,  as  the  I  AM,  once  again  asserting  Himself^ 
'*  sent  redemption  to  His  people  "  ?  And  so,  counting 
back  their  silent  years  since  Heaven's  last  voice  came 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


to  them  through  their  prophet  Malachi,  they  caught 
in  its  very  silences  a  sound  of  hope,  the  footfall  of 
the  forerunner,  and  the  voice  of  the  coming  Lord 
But  where,  and  how,  shall  the  long  silence  be  broken  ? 
We  must  go  for  our  answer — and  here,  again,  we  see 
a  correspondence  between  the  new  Exodus  and  the 
old — to  the  tribe  of  Levi,  and  to  the  house  of  Amram 
and  Jochebed. 

Residing  in  one  of  the  priestly  cities  of  the  hill- 
country  of  Judaea — though  not  in  Hebron,  as  is  commonly 
supposed,  for  it  is  most  unlikely  that  a  name  so  familiar 
and  sacred  in  the  Old  Testament  would  here  be  omitted 
in  the  New — was  "  a  certain  priest  named  Zacharias." 
Himself  a  descendant  of  Aaron,  his  v^-ife,  too,  was  of 
the  same  lineage  ;  and  besides  being  "  of  the  daughters 
of  Aaron,"  she  bore  the  name  of  then-  ancestral  mother, 
"  Elisabeth.'*  Like  Abraham  and  Sarah,  they  were  both 
well  advanced  in  years,  and  childless.  But  if  they  were 
not  allowed  to  have  any  lien  upon  posterity,  throwing 
themselves  forward  into  future  generations,  they  made 
up  the  lack  of  earthly  relationships  by  cultivating  the 
heavenly.  Forbidden,  as  they  thought,  to  look  forward 
down  the  lines  of  earthly  hopes,  they  could  and  did  look 
heavenward ;  for  we  read  that  they  were  both  "  right- 
eous"— a  word  implying  a  Mosaic  perfection — **  walking 
in  all  the  commandments  and  ordinances  of  the  Lord 
blameless."  We  may  not  be  able,  perhaps,  to  give 
the  precise  distinction  between  "  commandments  "  and 
*'  ordinances,"  for  they  were  sometimes  used  inter- 
changeably; but  if,  as  the  general  use  of  the  words 
allows  us,  we  refer  the  "  commandments  "  to  the  motal, 
and  the  "  ordinances "  to  the  ceremonial  law,  we  see 
how  wide  is  the  ground  they  cover,  embracing,  as  they 
do,  the  (then)  "  whole  duty  of  man."     Rarely,  if  ever. 


».5-a5.57-«o.]  THE  MUTE  PRIEST.  ti 

do  the  Scriptures  speak  in  such  eulogistic  terms  ;  and 
that  they  should  here  be  applied  to  Zacharias  and 
Elisabeth  shows  that  they  were  advanced  in  saint- 
liness,  as  well  as  in  years.  Possibly  St  Luke  had 
another  object  in  view  in  giving  us  the  portraits  of 
these  two  pre-Advent  Christians,  completing  in  the 
next  chapter  the  quartemion,  by  his  mention  of  Simeon 
and  Anna.  It  is  somewhat  strange,  to  say  the  least, 
that  the  Gentile  Evangelist  should  be  the  one  to  give 
us  this  remarkable  group — the  four  aged  Templars,  who, 
"  when  "  it  was  yet  dark,  rose  to  chant  their  matins  and 
to  anticipate  the  dawn.  Whether  the  Evangelist  in- 
tended it  or  not,  his  narrative  salutes  the  Old,  while 
it  heralds  the  New  dispensation,  pacing  to  that  Old 
a  high  though  unconscious  tribute.  It  shows  us  that 
Hebraism  was  not  yet  dead  ;  for  if  on  its  central  stem, 
within  the  limited  area  of  its  Temple  courts,  such  a 
cluster  of  beautiful  lives  could  be  found,  who  will  tell 
the  harvest  of  its  outi\ing  branches  ?  Judaism  was  not 
altogether  a  piece  of  mechanism,  elaborate  and  exact, 
with  a  soulless,  metallic  click  of  rites  and  ceremonies. 
It  was  an  organism,  li\*ing  and  sentient  It  had  nerves 
and  blood.  Possessed  of  a  heart  itself,  it  touched  the 
hearts  of  its  children.  It  gave  them  aspirations  and 
inspirations  without  number;  and  even  its  shadows 
were  the  interpreters,  as  they  were  the  creations,  of  the 
heavenly  light  And  if  now  it  is  doomed  to  pass  away, 
outdated  and  superseded,  it  is  not  because  it  is  bad, 
worthless  ;  for  it  was  a  Divine  conception,  the  "  good  " 
thing,  preparing  for  and  proclaiming  God's  "  better 
thing."  Judaism  was  the  "  glorious  angel,  keeping 
the  gates  of  light ; "  and  now,  behold,  she  swings  back 
the  gates,  welcomes  the  Morning,  and  herself  then 
disappears. 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


It  is  the  autumn  service  for  the  course  of  Abia — 
which  is  the  eighth  of  the  twenty-four  courses  into 
which  the  priesthood  was  divided — and  Zacharias  pro- 
ceeds to  Jerusalem,  to  perform  whatever  part  of  the 
service  the  lot  may  assign  to  him.  It  is  probably  the 
evening  of  the  Sabbath— the  presence  of  the  multitude 
would  almost  imply  that — and  this  evening  the  lot  gives 
to  Zacharias  the  coveted  distinction — which  could  only 
come  once  in  a  lifetime — of  burning  incense  in  the  Holy 
Place.  At  a  given  signal,  between  the  slaying  and  the 
offering  of  the  lamb,  Zacharias,  barefooted  and  robed  in 
white,  passes  up  the  steps,  accompanied  by  two  assist- 
ants, one  bearing  a  golden  censer  containing  half  a 
pound  of  the  sweet-smelling  incense,  the  other  bearing 
a  golden  vessel  of  burning  coals  taken  from  the  altar. 
Slowly  and  reverently  they  pass  within  the  Holy  Place, 
which  none  but  Levites  are  permitted  to  enter ;  and 
having  arranged  the  incense,  and  spread  the  live  coals 
upon  the  altar,  the  assistants  retire,  leaving  Zacharias 
alone — alone  in  the  dim  light  of  the  seven-branched 
candlestick,  alone  beside  that  veil  he  may  not  uplift, 
and  which  hides  from  his  sight  the  Holy  of  Holies, 
where  God  dwells  "  in  the  thick  darkness."  Such  is 
the  place,  and  such  the  supreme  moment,  when  Heaven 
breaks  the  silence  of  four  hundred  years. 

It  is  no  concern  of  ours  to  explain  the  phenomenon  that 
followed,  or  to  tone  down  its  supernatural  elements. 
Given  an  Incarnation,  and  then  the  supernatural  be- 
comes not  only  probable,  but  necessary.  Indeed,  we 
could  not  well  conceive  of  any  new  revelation  without 
it ;  and  instead  of  its  being  a  weakness,  a  blemish  on 
the  page  of  Scripture,  it  is  rather  a  proof  of  its  heaven- 
liness,  a  hall-mark  that  stamps  its  Divinity.  Nor  is 
there  any  need,  believing  as  we  do  in  the  existence  of 


i.  5-25. 57-«o.]  THE  MUTE  PRIEST.  «3 

intelligences  other  and  higher  than  ourselves,  that  wc 
apologize  for  the  appearance  of  angels,  here  and  else- 
where, in  the  story;  such  deference  to  Sadducean  doubts 
is  not  required. 

Suddenly,  as  Zacharias  stands  with  uplifted  hands, 
joining  in  the  prayers  offered  by  the  silent  "multitude" 
without,  an  angel  appears.  He  stands  "on  the  right 
side  of  the  altar  of  incense,"  half-veiled  by  the  fragrant 
smoke,  which  curling  upwards,  filled  the  place.  No 
wonder  that  the  lone  priest  is  filled  with  "  fear,"  and 
that  he  is  "  troubled  " — a  word  implying  an  outward 
tremor,  as  if  the  very  body  shook  with  the  unwonted 
agitation  of  the  soul.  The  angel  does  not  at  first 
announce  his  name,  but  seeks  rather  to  calm  the  heart 
of  the  priest,  stilling  its  tumult  with  a  "  Fear  not,"  as 
Jesus  stilled  the  waters  with  His  "  Peace."  Then  he 
makes  known  his  message,  speaking  in  language  most 
homely  and  most  human :  '*  Thy  prayer  is  heard." 
Perhaps  a  more  exact  rendering  would  be,  "  Thy 
request  was  granted,"  for  the  substantive  implies  a 
specific  prayer,  while  the  verb  indicates  a  "hearing" 
that  becomes  an  "assenting."  What  the  prayer  was 
we  may  gather  from  the  angel's  words ;  for  the  whole 
mf  ssage,  both  in  its  promise  and  its  prophecy,  is  but 
an  amplification  of  its  first  clause.  To  the  Jew,  child- 
lessness was  the  worst  of  all  bereavements.  It  implied, 
at  least  they  thought  so,  the  Divine  displeasure ;  while 
it  effectually  cut  them  ofi"  from  any  personal  share  in 
those  cherished  Messianic  hopes.  To  the  Hebrew 
heart  the  message,  "  Unto  you  a  son  is  bom,"  was 
the  music  of  a  lower  Gospel.  It  marked  an  epoch  in 
their  life-history ;  it  brought  the  fulfilment  of  their 
desires,  and  a  wealth  of  added  dignities.  And  Zacharias 
had  prayed,   f^arnestly   and   \y:<n'd,   that  a  son   might  be 


94  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

born  to  them ;  but  the  bright  hope,  with  the  years,  had 
grown  distant  and  dim,  until  at  last  it  had  dropped 
down  beyond  the  horizon  of  their  thoughts,  and  become 
an  impossibility.  But  those  prayers  were  heard,  yea, 
and  granted,  too,  in  the  Divine  purpose;  and  if  the 
answer  has  been  delayed,  it  was  that  it  might  come 
freighted  with  a  larger  blessing. 

But  in  saying  that  this  was  the  specific  prayer  of 
Zacharias  we  do  not  wish  to  disparage  his  motives, 
confining  his  thoughts  and  aspirations  within  a  circle 
so  narrow  and  selfish.  This  lesser  hope  of  offspring, 
like  a  satellite,  revolved  around  the  larger  hope  of  a 
Messiah,  and  indeed  grew  out  of  it.  It  drew  all  its 
brightness  and  all  its  beauty  from  that  larger  hope,  the 
hope  that  lighted  up  the  dark  Hebrew  sky  with  the 
auroras  of  a  new  and  fadeless  dawn.  When  mariners 
"  take  the  sun,"  as  they  call  it,  reading  from  its  disc 
their  longitudes,  they  bring  it  down  to  their  horizon- 
level.  They  get  the  higher  in  the  lower  vision,  and 
the  real  direction  of  their  looks  is  not  the  apparent 
direction.  And  if  Zacharias'  thoughts  and  prayers 
seem  to  have  an  earthward  drift,  his  soul  looks  higher 
than  his  speech;  and  if  he  looks  along  the  horizon- 
level  of  earthly  hopes,  it  is  that  he  may  read  the 
heavenly  promise.  It  is  not  a  son  that  he  is  looking 
for,  but  the  Son,  the  "  Seed  "  in  whom  "  all  the  families 
of  the  earth  shall  be  blessed."  And  so,  when  the 
silent  tongue  regains  its  powers  of  speech,  it  gives  its 
first  and  highest  doxologies  for  that  other  Child,  who 
is  Himself  the  promised  "redemption"  and  a  ''horn 
of  salvation ; "  his  own  child  he  sets  back,  far  back  in 
the  shadow  (or  rather  the  light)  of  Him  whom  he  calls 
the  "  Lord."  It  is  the  near  realization  of  both  these 
hopes  that  the  angel  now  announces. 


WS-a5iS7-«o]  THE  MUTE  PRIEST  aj 

A  son  shall  be  born  to  them,  even  in  their  advanced 
years,  and  they  shall  call  his  name  "  John,"  which 
means  "  The  Lord  is  gracious."  *^  Many  will  rejoice 
with  them  at  his  birth,"  for  that  birth  will  be  the 
awakening  of  new  hopes,  the  first  hour  of  a  new  day. 
"Great  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,"  he  must  be  a  Nazarite, 
abstaining  wholly  from  "  wine  and  strong  drink  " — the 
two  Greek  words  including  all  intoxicants,  however 
made.  "  Filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost  from  his  mother's 
womb  " — that  original  bias  or  propensity  to  evil,  if  not 
obliterated,  yet  more  than  neutralized — he  shall  be  the 
Elijah  (in  spirit  and  in  power)  of  Malachi's  prophecy, 
turning  many  of  Israel's  children  "to  the  Lord  their 
God."  "Going  before  Him" — and  the  antecedent  of 
"  Him  "  must  be  "  the  Lord  their  God  "  of  the  preceding 
verse,  so  early  is  the  purple  of  Divinity  thrown  around 
the  Christ — he  "  shall  turn  the  hearts  of  fathers  to  their 
children,"  restoring  peace  and  order  to  domestic  life ; 
and  the  "  disobedient "  he  shall  incline  "  to  walk  in  the 
wisdom  of  the  just  "  (R.V.),  bringing  back  the  feet  that 
have  erred  and  slipped  to  **  the  paths  of  uprightness," 
which  are  the  "  ways  of  wisdom."  In  short,  he  shall 
be  the  herald,  making  ready  a  people  prepared  for  the 
Lord,  running  before  the  Royal  chariot,  proclaiming  the 
coming  One,  and  preparing  His  way,  then  leaving  his 
own  little  footprints  to  disappear,  thrown  up  in  the 
chariot-dust  of  Him  who  was  greater  and  mightier 
than  he. 

We  can  easily  understand,  even  if  we  may  not 
apologize  for,  the  incredulity  of  Zacharias.  There  are 
crises  in  our  life  when,  under  profound  emotion, 
Reason  herself  seems  bewildered,  and  Faith  loses  her 
steadiness  of  vision.  The  storm  of  feeling  throws  the 
reflective  powers  into  confusion,  and  thought  becomes 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


blurred  and  indistinct,  and  speech  incoherent  and  wild. 
And  such  a  crisis  was  it  now,  but  intensified  to  the 
mind  of  Zacharias  by  all  these  additions  of  the  super- 
natural. The  vision,  with  its  accessories  of  place  and 
time,  the  message,  so  startling,  even  though  so  welcome, 
must  necessarily  produce  a  strange  perturbation  of  soul ; 
and  what  surprise  need  there  be  that  when  the  priest 
does  speak  it  is  in  the  lisping  accents  of  unbelief? 
Could  it  well  have  been  otherwise  ?  Peter  "  wist  not 
that  it  was  true  which  was  done  by  the  angel,  but  thought 
he  saw  a  vision ; "  and  though  Zacharias  has  none  of 
these  doubts  of  unreality — it  is  to  him  no  dream  of  the 
moment's  ecstasy — still  he  is  not  yet  aware  of  the  rank 
and  dignity  of  his  angel-visitant,  while  he  is  perplexed 
at  the  message,  which  so  directly  contravenes  both 
reason  and  experience.  He  does  not  doubt  the  Divine 
power,  let  it  be  observed,  but  he  does  seek  for  a  sign 
that  the  angel  speaks  with  Divine  authority.  "  Where- 
by shall  I  know  this  ?  "  he  asks,  reminding  us  by  his 
question  of  Jacob's  *'  Tell  me  thy  name."  The  angel 
replies,  in  substance,  "  You  ask  whereby  you  may  know 
this;  that  is,  you  wish  to  know  by  whose  authority 
I  declare  this  message  to  you.  Well,  I  am  Gabriel, 
that  stand  in  the  presence  of  God ;  and  I  was  sent  to 
speak  unto  you,  and  to  bring  you  these  good  tidings. 
And  since  you  ask  for  a  sign,  an  endorsement  of  my 
message,  you  shall  have  one.  I  put  the  seal  of  silence 
upon  your  lips,  and  you  shall  not  be  able  to  speak 
until  the  day  when  these  things  shall  come  to  pass, 
because  you  believed  not  my  words."  Then  the  vision 
ends ;  Gabriel  returns  to  the  songs  and  anthems  of  the 
skies,  leaving  Zacharias  to  carry,  in  awful  stillness  of 
soul,  this  new  "  secret  of  the  Lord." 

This    infliction    of   dumbness   upon    Zacharias   has 


L5-a5.57-<o^l  THE  MUTE  PRIEST  ly 

generally  been  regarded  ai  a  rebuke  and  punishment 
for  his  unbelief;  but  if  we  refer  to  the  parallel  cases  of 
Abraham  and  of  Gideon,  such  is  not  Heaven's  wonted 
answer  to  the  request  for  a  sign.  We  must  understand 
it  rather  as  the  proof  Zacharias  sought,  something  at 
once  supernatural  and  significant,  that  should  help  his 
stumbling  faith.  Such  a  sign,  and  a  most  effective  one, 
it  was.  Unlike  Gideon's  dew,  that  would  soon  eva- 
porate, leaving  nothing  but  a  memory,  this  was  ever 
present,  ever  felt,  at  least  until  faith  was  exchanged 
for  sight.  Nor  was  it  dumbness  simply,  for  the  word 
(ver.  22)  rendered  "speechless"  implies  inability  to 
hear  as  well  as  inability  to  speak;  and  this,  coupled 
with  the  fact  mentioned  in  ver.  62,  that  "they  made 
signs  to  him  " — which  they  would  scarcely  have  done 
could  he  have  heard  their  voices — compels  us  to  sup- 
pose that  Zacharias  had  suddenly  become  deaf  as  well 
as  dumb.  Heaven  put  the  seal  of  silence  upon  his  lips 
and  ears,  that  so  its  own  voice  might  be  more  clear  and 
loud ;  and  so  the  profound  silences  of  Zacharias'  soul 
were  but  the  blank  spaces  on  which  Heaven's  sweet 
music  was  written. 

How  long  the  interview  with  the  angel  lasted  we 
cannot  tell.  It  must,  however,  have  been  brief;  for  at 
a  given  signal,  the  stroke  of  the  Magrephah,  the  atten> 
dant  priest  would  re-enter  the  Holy  Place,  to  light  the 
two  lamps  that  had  been  left  unlighted.  And  here  we 
must  look  for  the  "tarrying"  that  so  perplexed  the 
multitude,  who  were  waiting  outside,  in  silence,  for  the 
benediction  of  the  incensing  priest  Re-entering  th« 
Holy  Place,  the  attendant  finds  Zacharias  smitten  as  by 
a  sudden  paralysis — speechless,  deaf,  and  overcome  by 
emotion.  What  wonder  that  the  strange  excitement 
makes  them  oblivious  of  time,  and,  for  the  moment. 


a«  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

all-forgetful  of  their  Temple  duties !  The  priests  are 
in  their  places,  grouped  together  on  the  steps  leading 
up  to  the  Holy  Place ;  the  sacrificing  priest  has  ascended 
the  great  brazen  altar,  ready  to  cast  the  pieces  of  the 
slain  lamb  upon  the  sacred  fire;  the  Levites  stand 
ready  with  their  trumpets  and  their  psalms — all  waiting 
for  the  priests  who  linger  so  long  in  the  Holy  Place. 
At  length  they  appear,  taking  up  their  position  on  the 
top  of  the  steps,  above  the  rows  of  priests,  and  above 
the  silent  multitude.  But  Zacharias  cannot  pronounce 
the  usual  benediction  to-day.  The  "Jehovah  bless 
thee  and  keep  thee"  is  unsaid;  the  priest  can  only 
"beckon"  to  them,  perhaps  laying  his  finger  on  the 
silent  lips,  and  then  pointing  to  the  silent  heavens — to 
them  indeed  silent,  but  to  himself  all  vocal  now. 

And  so  the  mute  priest,  after  the  days  of  his  minis- 
tration are  completed,  returns  to  his  home  in  the  hill- 
country,  to  wait  the  fulfilment  of  the  promises,  and  out 
of  his  deep  silences  to  weave  a  song  that  should  be 
immortal ;  for  the  Benedictus,  whose  music  girdles  the 
world  to-day,  before  it  struck  upon  the  world's  ear  and 
heart,  had,  through  those  quiet  months,  filled  the  hushed 
temple  of  his  soul,  lifting  up  the  priest  and  the  prophet 
among  the  poets,  and  passing  down  the  name  of 
Zacharias  as  one  of  the  first  sweet  singers  of  the  new 
Israel. 

And  so  the  Old  meets,  and  merges  into  the  New 
and  at  the  marriage  it  is  the  speaking  hands  of  the 
mute  priest  that  join  together  the  two  Dispensations,  as 
each  gives  itself  to  the  other,  never  more  to  be  put 
asunder,  but  to  be  "no  longer  twain,  but  one,"  one 
Purpose,  one  Plan,  one  Divine  Thought,  one  Divine 
Word. 


CHAPTER    III. 
THE  GOSPEL  PSALMS. 

UNLIKE  modern  church  builders,  St.  Luke  sets  his 
chancel  by  the  porch.  No  sooner  have  we 
passed  through  the  vestibule  of  his  Gospel  than  we 
find  ourselves  within  a  circle  of  harmonies.  On  the 
one  side  are  Zacharias  and  Simeon,  the  one  chanting 
his  Bencdictus^  and  the  other  his  Nunc  Dimittis. 
Facing  them,  as  if  in  antiphon,  are  EHsabeth  and 
Mary,  the  one  singing  her  Beatitude^  and  the  other  her 
Magnificat ;  while  overhead,  in  the  frescoed  and  star- 
lighted  sky,  are  vast  multitudes  of  the  heavenly  host, 
enriching  the  Advent  music  with  their  Glorias.  What 
means  this  grand  irruption  of  song  ?  and  why  is 
St.  Luke,  the  Gentile  Evangelist,  the  only  one  who  re- 
peats to  us  these  Hebrew  psalms  ?  At  first  it  would 
seem  as  if  their  natural  place  would  be  as  a  prelude 
to  St.  Matthew's  Gospel,  which  is  the  Gospel  of  the  He- 
brews. But  strangely  enough,  St.  Matthew  passes  them 
by  in  silence,  just  as  he  omits  the  two  angelic  visions. 
St  Matthew  is  evidently  intent  on  one  thing.  Beginning 
a  New  Testament,  as  he  is,  he  seems  especially  anxious 
that  there  shall  be  no  rent  or  even  seam  between  the 
Old  and  the  New ;  and  so,  in  his  first  pages,  after  giving 
us  the  genealogy,  running  the  line  of  descent  up  to 
Abraham,  he  laces  up  the  threads  of  his  narrative  with 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 


the  broken-off  threads  of  the  old  prophecies,  so  that  the 
written  Word  may  be  a  vestment  of  the  Incarnate 
Word,  which  shall  be  "without  seam,  woven  from  the 
top  throughout."  And  so  really  the  Advent  hymns 
would  not  have  suited  St.  Matthew's  purpose.  Their 
ring  would  not  have  been  in  accord  with  the  tone  of 
his  story ;  and  had  we  found  them  in  his  first  chapters 
we  should  instinctively  have  felt  that  they  were  out 
of  place,  as  if  we  saw  a  rose  blossoming  on  a  wide- 
spread oak. 

St.  Luke,  however,  is  portraying  the  Son  of  Man. 
Coming  to  redeem  humanity,  he  shows  how  He  was 
first  born  into  that  humanity,  making  His  advent  in  a 
purely  human  fashion.  And  so  the  two  conceptions 
form  a  fit  beginning  for  his  Gospel;  while  over  the 
Divine  Birth  and  Childhood  he  lingers  reverently  and 
long,  paying  it,  however,  only  the  homage  Heaven  had 
paid  it  before.  Then,  too,  was  there  not  a  touch  of 
poetry  about  our  Evangelist  ?  Tradition  has  been 
almost  unanimous  in  saying  that  he  was  a  painter ;  and 
certainly  in  the  grouping  of  his  figures,  and  his  careful 
play  upon  the  lights  and  shadows,  we  can  discover 
traces  of  his  artistic  skill,  in  word-painting  at  any  rate. 
His  was  evidently  a  soul  attuned  to  harmonies,  quick 
to  discern  any  accordant  or  discordant  strains.  Nor 
must  we  forget  that  St.  Luke's  mind  is  open  to  certain 
occult  influences,  whose  presence  we  may  indeed  detect, 
but  whose  power  we  are  not  able  to  gauge.  As  we 
have  already  seen,  it  was  the  manifold  narratives  of 
anonymous  writers  that  first  moved  him  to  take  up  the 
pen  of  the  historian  ;  and  to  those  narratives  we  doubt- 
less owe  something  of  the  peculiar  cast  and  colouring  of 
St.  Luke's  story.  It  is  with  the  Nativity  that  tradition 
would  be  most  likely  to  take  liberties.     The  facts  of 


THE  GOSPEL  PSALMS  %l 

the  Advent,  strange  enough  in  themselves,  would  at 
the  hands  of  rumour  undergo  a  process  of  developing, 
like  the  magnified  and  somewhat  grotesque  shadows  of 
himself  the  traveller  casts  on  Alpine  mists.  It  was 
doubtless  owing  to  these  enlargements  and  distortions 
of  tradition  that  St.  Luke  was  led  to  speak  of  the 
Advent  so  fully,  going  into  the  minutiae  of  detail,  and 
inserting,  as  is  probable,  from  the  Hebrew  tone  of 
these  first  two  chapters,  the  account  as  given  orally, 
or  written,  by  some  members  of  the  Holy  Family. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  to  some  inquiring  and 
honest  minds  these  Advent  psalms  have  been  a  diffi- 
culty, an  enigma,  if  not  a  stumbling-block.  As  the 
bells  that  summon  to  worship  half-deafen  the  ear  of 
the  worshipper  on  a  too  near  approach,  or  they  become 
merely  a  confused  and  unmeaning  noise  if  he  climbs 
up  into  the  belfry  and  watches  the  swing  of  their 
brazen  lips,  so  this  burst  of  music  in  our  third 
Gospel  has  been  too  loud  for  certain  sensitive  ears. 
It  has  shaken  somewhat  the  foundations  of  their  faith. 
They  think  it  gives  an  unreality,  a  certain  mythical 
flavour,  to  the  story,  that  these  four  pious  people,  who 
have  always  led  a  quiet,  prosaic  kind  of  life,  should 
now  suddenly  break  out  into  impromptu  songs,  and 
when  these  are  ended  lapse  again  into  complete  silence, 
like  the  century  plant,  which  throws  out  a  solitary 
blossom  in  the  course  of  a  hundred  years.  And  so 
they  come  to  regard  these  Hebrew  psalms  as  an  inter- 
polation, an  afterthought,  thrown  into  the  story  for 
effect.  But  let  us  not  forget  that  we  are  dealing  now 
with  Eastern  mind,  which  is  naturally  vivacious, 
imaginative,  and  highly  poetical  Even  our  colder 
tongue,  in  this  glacial  period  of  nineteenth-century 
civilization,  is  full  of  poetry.     The  language  of  common 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


every-day  life — to  those  who  have  ears  to  hear — is  full 
of  tropes,  metaphors,  and  parables.  Take  up  the 
commonest  words  of  daily  speech,  and  put  them  to 
your  ear,  and  they  will  sing  like  shells  from  the  sea. 
There  are  whole  poems  in  thera— epics,  idylls,  of  every 
sort ;  and  let  our  colder  speech  get  among  the  sweet 
influences  of  religion,  and  like  the  iceberg  adrift  in  the 
Gulf  Stream,  it  loses  its  rigidity  and  frigidity  at  once, 
melting  in  liquid,  rhythmic  measures,  throwing  itself 
away  in  hymns  and  j'ubtiates.  The  fact  is,  the  world  is 
full  of  music.  As  the  Sage  of  Chelsea  said,  "  See  deep 
enough,  and  you  see  musically,  the  heart  of  Nature 
being  everywhere  music  if  you  can  only  reach  it." 
And  it  is  so.  You  can  touch  nothing  but  there  are 
harmonies  slumbering  within  it,  or  itself  is  a  stray  note 
of  some  grander  song.  Dead  wood  from  the  forest, 
dead  ore  from  the  mine,  dead  tusks  of  the  beast — these 
are  the  **  base  things  "  that  strike  our  music ;  and  only 
put  a  mind  within  them,  and  a  living  soul  with  a  living 
touch  before  them,  and  you  have  songs  and  anthems 
without  number. 

But  to  Eastern  minds  poetry  was  a  sort  of  native 
language.  Its  inspiration  was  in  the  air.  Their  ordi- 
nary speech  was  ornate  and  efflorescent,  throwing 
itself  out  in  simile  and  hyperbole.  It  only  needed 
some  small  excitement,  and  they  fell  naturally  into  the 
couplet  form  of  utterance.  Even  to-day  the  children 
swing  under  the  mulberry-trees  to  songs  and  choruses  ; 
hucksters  extol  their  wares  in  measured  verse ;  and  the 
Bethany  fruit-girl  sings  in  the  market,  "O  lady,  take 
of  our  fruit,  without  money  and  without  price :  it  is 
yours ;  take  all  that  you  will "  I  And  so  it  need  not 
surprise  us,  much  less  trouble  us,  that  Simeon  and 
Elisabeth,  Zacharias  and  Mary,  should  each  speak  in 


THE  GOSPEL  PSALMS,  U 

measured  cadences.  Their  speech  blossomed  with 
flowers  of  rhetoric,  just  as  naturally  as  their  hills  were 
ablaze  with  daisies  and  anemones.  Besides,  they  were 
now  under  the  direct  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
We  read,  "  Elisabeth  was  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost ; " 
and  again,  Zacharias  was  ''  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost ; " 
Simeon  "  came  in  the  Spirit  into  the  Temple ; "  while 
Mary  now  seemed  to  live  in  one  conscious,  constant 
inspiration.  It  is  said  that  "  a  poet  is  born,  not  made ; " 
and  if  he  be  not  thus  "  free-born "  no  "  great  sum," 
either  of  gold  or  toil,  will  ever  pass  him  up  within  the 
favoured  circle.  And  the  same  is  true  of  the  poet's 
creations.  Sacred  hymns  are  not  the  product  of  the 
unaided  intellect.  They  do  not  come  at  the  bidding  of 
any  human  will.  They  are  inspirations.  There  is  the 
overshadowing  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  their  conception. 
The  human  mind,  heart,  and  lips  are  but  the  instru- 
ment, a  kind  of  iEolian  lyre,  played  upon  by  the  Higher 
Breath,  which  comes  and  goes — how,  the  singer  himself 
can  never  tell ;  for 

"  In  the  song 
The  singer  has  been  lost* 

It  was  when  '*  filled  with  the  Spirit "  that  Bezaleel  put 
into  his  gold  and  silver  the  thoughts  of  God  ;  it  was  when 
the  Spirit  of  God  came  upon  him  that  Balaam  took  up 
his  parable,  putting  into  stately  numbers  Israel's  for- 
ward march  and  endless  victories.  And  so  the  sacred 
psalm  is  the  highest  type  of  inspiration ;  it  is  a  voice 
from  no  earthly  Parnassus,  but  from  the  Mount  of  God 
itself — the  nearest  approach  to  the  celestial  harmo- 
nies, the  harmonies  of  that  city  whose  very  walls  are 
poetry,  and  whose  gates  are  praise. 

And   so,  after  all,  it  was  but  fitting  and  perfectly 
natural  that  the  Gospel  that  Heaven  had  been  so  long  time 

3 


34  THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST.   LUKE. 

preparing  should  break  upon  the  world  amid  the  har- 
monies of  music.  Instead  of  apologizing  for  its  presence, 
as  if  it  were  but  an  interlude  improvised  for  the  occa- 
sion, we  should  have  noted  and  mourned  its  absence, 
as  when  one  mourns  for  "  the  sound  of  a  voice  that  i3 
still."  When  the  ark  of  God  was  brought  up  from 
Baale  Judah  it  was  encircled  with  one  wide  wreath  of 
music,  a  travelling  orchestra  of  harps  and  psalteries, 
castanets  and  cymbals  ;  and  as  now  that  Ark  of  all  the 
promises  is  borne  across  from  the  Old  to  the  New  Dis- 
pensation, as  the  promise  becomes  a  fulfilment,  and 
the  hope  a  realization,  shall  there  not  be  the  voice  of 
song  and  gladness  ?  Our  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things 
expects  it ;  Heaven's  law  of  the  harmonies  demands 
it ;  and  had  there  not  been  this  burst  of  praise  and 
song,  we  should  have  listened  for  the  very  stones  to 
cry  out,  rebuking  the  strange  silence.  But  the  voice 
was  not  silent.  The  singers  were  there,  in  their  places ; 
and  they  sang,  not  because  they  would,  but  because 
they  must.  A  heavenly  pressure,  a  sweet  constraint, 
was  upon  them.  If  Wealth  lays  down  her  tribute  of 
gold,  with  frankincense  and  m3n-rh.  Poetry  weaves  for 
the  Holy  Child  her  beautiful  songs,  and  crowns  Him 
with  her  fadeless  amaranth  ;  and  so  around  the  earthly 
cradle  of  the  Lord,  as  around  His  heavenly  throne, 
we  have  angelic  songs,  and  "  the  voices  of  harpers, 
harping  with  their  harps." 

Turning  now  to  the  four  Gospel-psalmists — not, 
however,  to  analyze,  but  to  listen  to  their  song — we 
meet  first  with  Elisabeth.  This  aged  daughter  of 
Aaron,  and  wife  of  Zacharias,  as  we  have  seen,  resided 
somewhere  in  the  hill-country  of  Judaea,  in  their  quiet, 
childless  home.  Righteous,  blameless,  and  devout, 
religion   to   her  was    no   mere  form;   it  was  her  life. 


THE   GOSPEL  PSALMS,  35 

The  Temple  services,  with  which  she  was  closely 
assc  :iated,  were  to  her  no  cold  clatter  of  dead  rites , 
they  were  realities,  full  of  life  and  full  of  music,  as 
her  heart  had  caught  their  deeper  meaning.  But  the 
Temple,  while  it  attracted  her  thoughts  and  hopes,  did 
not  enclose  them ;  its  songs  and  services  were  to  her 
but  so  many  needles,  swinging  round  on  their  marble 
pivot,  and  pointing  beyond  to  the  Living  God,  the  God 
who  dwelt  not  in  temples  made  with  hands,  but  who, 
then  as  now,  inhabits  the  purified  temple  of  the  heart. 
Long  past  the  time  when  motherly  hopes  were  possible, 
the  fretting  had  subsided,  and  her  spirit  had  become, 
first  acquiescent,  then  quiescent.  But  these  hopes  had 
been  miraculously  rekindled,  as  she  slowly  read  the 
visioij  of  the  Temple  from  the  writing-table  of  her 
dumb  husband.  The  shadow  of  her  dial  had  gone 
backward;  and  instead  of  its  being  evening,  with 
gathering  shadows  and  ever-lessening  light,  she  found 
herself  back  in  the  glow  of  the  morning,  her  whole  life 
lifted  to  a  higher  level.  She  was  to  be  the  mother,  if 
not  of  the  Christ,  yet  of  His  forerunner.  And  so  the 
Christ  was  near  at  hand,  this  was  certain,  and  she  had 
the  secret  prophecy  and  promise  of  His  advent  And 
Elisabeth  finds  herself  exalted — borne  up,  as  it  were, 
into  Paradise,  among  visions  and  such  swells  of 
hosannas  that  she  cannot  utter  them;  they  are  too 
sweet  and  too  deep  for  her  shallow  words.  Was  it  not 
this,  the  storm  of  inward  commotion,  that  drove  her  to 
hide  herself  for  the  five  months  ?  Heaven  has  come  so 
near  to  her,  such  thoughts  and  visions  fill  her  mind, 
that  she  cannot  bear  the  intrusions  and  jars  of  earthly 
speech ;  and  Elisabeth  passes  into  a  voluntary  seclusion 
and  silence,  keeping  strange  company  with  the  dumb  and 
deaf  Zacharias. 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 


At  length  the  silence  is  broken  by  the  unexpected 
appearance  of  her  Nazareth  relative.  Mary,  fresh  from 
her  hasty  journey,  '*  entered  into  the  house  of  Zacharias 
and  saluted  Elisabeth."  It  is  a  singular  expression,  and 
evidently  denotes  that  the  visit  of  the  Virgin  was  alto- 
gether unlocked  for.  There  is  no  going  out  to  meet 
the  expected  guest,  as  was  common  in  Eastern  hospi- 
talities ;  there  was  even  no  welcome  by  the  gate ;  but 
like  an  apparition,  Mary  passes  within,  and  salutes  the 
surprised  Elisabeth,  who  returns  the  salutation,  not, 
however,  in  any  of  the  prescribed  forms,  but  in  a 
benediction  of  measured  verse : — 

"  Blessed  art  thou  among  women, 
And  blessed  is  the  fruit  of  thy  womb  I 
And  whence  is  this  to  me, 
That  the  mother  of  my  Lord  should  come  unto  me  ? 
For,  behold,  when  the  voice  of  thy  salutation  came  into  mine  ean 
The  babe  leaped  in  my  womb  for  joy. 
And  blessed  is  she  that  believed, 
For  there  shall  be  a  fulfilment  of  the  things  which  have  been  spoken 
to  her  from  the  Lord." 

The  whole  canticle — and  it  is  Hebrew  poetry,  as  its 
parallelisms  and  strophes  plainly  show — is  one  apos- 
trophe to  the  Virgin.  Striking  the  key-note  in  its 
"Blessed  art  thou,"  the  "thou"  moves  on,  distinct 
and  clear,  amid  all  variations,  to  the  end,  reaching  its 
climax  in  its  central  phrase,  "  The  mother  of  my  Lord." 
As  one  hails  the  morning  star,  not  so  much  for  its  own 
light  as  for  its  promise  of  the  greater  light,  the  day- 
spring  that  is  behind  it,  so  Elisabeth  salutes  the  morning 
star  of  the  new  dawn,  at  the  same  time  paying  homage 
to  the  Sun,  whose  near  approach  the  star  heralds.  And 
why  is  Mary  so  blessed  among  women  ?  Why  should 
Elisabeth,  forgetting  the  dignity  of  years,  bow  so  defer- 
entially  before   her    youthful   relative,   crowning    her 


THE   GOSPEL  PSALMS.  37 

with  a  song?  Who  has  informed  her  of  the  later 
revelation  at  Nazareth  ?  It  is  not  necessary  to  sup- 
pose that  Elisabeth,  in  her  seclusion,  had  received  any 
corroborative  vision,  or  even  that  she  had  been  super- 
naturally  enlightened.  Had  she  not  the  message  the 
angel  delivered  to  Zacharias  ?  and  was  not  that  enough  ? 
Her  son  was  to  be  the  Christ's  forerunner,  going,  as  the 
angel  said,  before  the  face  of  ^'  the  Lord."  Three  times 
had  the  angel  designated  the  Coming  One  as  **the 
Lord,"  and  this  was  the  word  she  had  carried  with  her 
into  her  seclusion.  What  it  meant  she  did  not  fully 
understand ;  but  she  knew  this,  that  it  was  He  of  whom 
Moses  and  the  prophets  had  written,  the  Shiloh,  the 
Wonderful;  and  as  she  put  together  the  detached 
Scriptures,  adding,  doubtless,  some  guesses  of  her  own, 
the  Christ  grew  as  a  conception  of  her  mind  and  the 
desire  of  her  heart  into  such  colossal  proportions  that 
even  her  own  offspring  was  dwarfed  in  comparison, 
and  the  thoughts  of  her  own  maternity  became,  in  the 
rush  of  greater  thoughts,  only  as  the  stray  eddies  of  the 
stream.  That  such  was  the  drift  of  her  thoughts  during 
the  five  quiet  months  is  evident;  for  now,  taught  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  that  her  kinswoman  is  to  be  the  mother  of 
the  expected  One,  she  greets  the  unborn  Christ  with  her 
lesser  Benedictus,  Like  the  old  painters,  she  puts  her 
aureole  of  song  around  the  mother's  head,  but  it  is  easy 
to  see  that  the  mother's  honours  are  but  the  far-oflf 
reflections  from  the  Child.  Is  Mary  blessed  among 
women?  it  is  not  because  of  any  wealth  of  native 
grace,  but  because  of  the  fruit  of  her  womb.  Does 
Elisabeth  throw  herself  right  back  in  the  shade,  asking 
almost  abjectly,  "  Whence  is  this  to  me  ?  "  it  is  because, 
like  the  centurion,  she  feels  herself  unworthy  that  even 
the  unborn  "  Lord  "  ihould  come  under  her  roof.    And 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE, 


80,  while  this  song  is  really  an  ode  to  the  Virgin,  it  it 
virtually  Elisabeth's  salute  of  the  Christ  who  is  to  be, 
a  salute  in  which  her  own  offspring  takes  part,  for  she 
speaks  of  his  "  leaping  "  in  her  womb,  as  if  he  were  a 
participant  in  her  joy,  interpreting  its  movements  as 
a  sort  of  **  Hail,  Master  I "  The  canticle  thus  becomes 
invested  with  a  higher  significance.  .  Its  words  say 
much,  but  suggest  more.  It  carries  our  thought  out 
from  the  seen  to  the  unseen,  from  the  mother  to  the 
Holy  Child,  and  Elisabeth's  song  thus  becomes  the 
earliest  "Hosannah  to  the  Son  of  David,"  the  first 
prelude  to  the  unceasing  anthems  that  are  to  follow. 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  the  last  line  the  song 
drops  out  of  the  first  and  the  second  personals  into 
the  third.  It  is  no  longer  the  frequent  **  thy,"  "  thou," 
"my,"  but  "she:"  "Happy  is  she  that  believed." 
Why  is  this  change  ?  Why  does  she  not  end  as  she 
began — **  Happy  art  thou  who  hast  believed  "  ?  Simply 
because  she  is  no  longer  speaking  of  Mary  alone.  She 
puts  herself  as  well  within  this  beatitude,  and  at  the 
same  time  states  a  general  law,  how  faith  ripens  into  a 
harvest  of  blessedness.  The  last  line  thus  becomes 
the  "  Amen  "  of  the  song.  It  reaches  up  among  the 
eternal  "  Verilies,"  and  sets  them  ringing.  It  speaks 
of  the  Divine  faithfulness,  out  of  which  and  within 
which  human  faith  grows  as  an  acorn  within  its  cup. 
And  who  could  have  better  right  to  sing  of  the  blessed- 
ness of  faith,  and  to  introduce  this  New  Testament 
grace — not  unknown  in  the  Old  Testament,  but  un- 
named— as  she  who  was  herself  such  an  exemplification 
of  her  theme  ?  How  calmly  her  own  heart  reposed  on 
the  Divine  word  1  How  before  her  far-seeing  and 
foreseeing  vision  valleys  were  exalted,  mountains  and 
hills  made  low,  that  the  way  of  the  Lord  might  appear ! 


THE  GOSPEL  PSALMS.  39 

Elisabeth  sees  the  unseen  Christ,  lays  before  Him  the 
tribute  of  her  song,  the  treasures  of  her  affection  and 
devotion ;  even  before  the  Magi  had  saluted  the  Child- 
King,  Elisabeth's  heart  had  gone  out  to  meet  Him  with 
her  hosannas,  and  her  lips  had  greeted  Him  ''My 
Lord."  Elisabeth  is  thus  the  first  singer  of  the  New 
Dispensation ;  and  though  her  song  is  more  a  bud  of 
poetry  than  the  ripe,  blossomed  flower,  enfolding  rather 
than  unfolding  its  hidden  beauties,  it  pours  out  a 
fragrance  sweeter  than  spikenard  on  the  feet  of  the 
Coming  One,  while  it  throws  around  Him  the  purple  of 
new  royalties. 

Turning  now  to  the  song  of  Mary,  our  Magnificat^ 
we  come  to  poetry  of  a  higher  order.  Elisabeth's 
introit  was  evidently  spoken  under  intense  feeling ;  it 
was  the  music  of  the  storm ;  for  "  she  lifted  up  her 
voice  with  a  loud  cry."  Mary's  song,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  calm,  the  hymn  of  the  "  quiet  resting-place." 
There  is  no  unnatural  excitement  now,  no  inward 
perturbation,  half  mental  and  half  physical.  Mary  was 
perfectly  self-possessed,  as  if  the  spell  of  some  Divine 
"  peace  "  were  upon  her  soul ;  and  as  Elisabeth's  "  loud 
cry  "  ceased,  Mary  "  said  " — so  it  reads — her  response. 
But  if  the  voice  was  lower,  the  thought  was  higher, 
more  majestic  in  its  sweep.  Elisabeth's  song  was  on 
the  lower  heights.  "The  mother  of  my  Lord,"  this 
was  its  starting-place,  and  the  centre  around  which  its 
circles  were  described ;  and  though  its  wings  beat  now 
and  again  against  the  infinities,  it  does  not  attempt  to 
explore  them,  but  returns  timidly  to  its  nest.  But 
Elisabeth's  loftiest  reach  is  Mary's  starting-point ;  her 
song  begins  where  the  song  of  Elisabeth  ends.  Strik- 
ing her  key-note  in  the  first  line,  "  The  Lord,"  this  is 
her  one  thought,  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  her  psalm. 


40  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

We  call  it  the  Magnificat;  it  is  a  Te  Deum,  full  of  sug- 
gested doxologies.  Beginning  with  the  personal,  as  she 
is  almost  compelled  to  do  by  the  intense  personality  of 
Elizabeth's  song,  Mary  hastes  to  gather  up  the  eulogies 
bestowed  upon  herself,  and  to  bear  them  forward  to 
Him  who  merits  all  praise,  as  He  is  the  Source  of  all 
blessing.  Her  soul  "  magnifies  the  Lord,"  not  that  she, 
by  any  weak  words  of  hers,  can  add  to  His  greatness, 
which  is  infinite,  but  even  she  may  give  the  Lord  a 
wider  place  within  her  thoughts  and  heart ;  and  who- 
ever is  silent,  her  song  shall  make  '*  the  voice  of  His 
praise  to  be  heard."  Her  spirit  "  hath  rejoiced  in  God 
her  Saviour,"  and  why  ?  Has  He  not  looked  down  on 
her  low  estate,  and  done  great  things  for  her  ?  "  The 
bondmaid  of  the  Lord,"  as  she  a  second  time  calls 
herself,  glorying  in  her  bonds,  such  is  her  promotion 
and  exaltation  that  all  generations  shall  call  her  blessed. 
Then,  with  a  beautiful  efFacement  of  self,  which  hence- 
forth is  not  even  to  be  a  mote  playing  in  the  sunshine, 
she  sings  of  Jehovah — His  holiness.  His  might.  His 
mercy.  His  faithfulness. 

Mary's  song,  both  in  its  tone  and  language,  belongs 
to  the  Old  Dispensation.  Thoroughly  Hebraic,  and  all 
inlaid  with  Old  Testament  quotations,  it  is  the  swan- 
song  of  Hebraism.  There  is  not  a  single  phrase, 
perhaps  not  a  single  word,  that  bears  a  distinctive 
Christian  stamp  ;  for  the  "  Saviour  "  of  the  first  strophe 
is  the  *'  Saviour  "  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  not  of  the 
New,  with  a  national  rather  than  an  evangelical  mean- 
ing. The  heart  of  the  singer  is  turned  to  the  past 
rather  than  to  the  future.  Indeed,  with  the  solitary 
exception,  how  all  generations  shall  call  her  blessed, 
there  is  no  passing  glimpse  into  the  future.  Instead  ol 
speaking  of  the  Expected  One,  and  blessing  **  the  fruit 


THE  GOSPEL  PSALMS 


of  her  womb,"  her  song  does  not  even  mention  Him. 
She  tells  how  the  Lord  hath  done  great  things  for  her, 
but  what  those  "  great  things "  are  she  does  not  say  j 
she  might,  as  far  as  her  own  song  tells  us,  be  simply 
a  later  Miriam,  singing  of  some  family  or  personal 
deliverance,  a  salvation  which  was  one  of  a  thousand. 
A  true  daughter  of  Israel,  she  dwells  among  her  own 
people,  and  her  very  broadest  vision  sees  in  her  off- 
spring no  world-wide  blessing,  only  a  Deliverer  for 
Israel,  His  servant.  Does  she  speak  of  mercy  ?  it  is 
not  that  wider  mercy  that  like  a  sea  laves  every  shore, 
bearing  on  its  still  bosom  a  redeemed  humanity ;  it  is 
the  narrower  mercy  **  toward  Abraham  and  his  seed  for 
ever."  Mary  recognizes  the  unity  of  the  Godhead,  but 
she  does  not  recognize  the  unity,  the  brotherhood  of 
man.  Her  thought  goes  back  to  ''our  fathers,"  but 
there  it  halts ;  the  shrunken  sinew  of  Hebrew  thought 
could  not  cross  the  prior  centuries,  to  find  the  world's 
common  father  in  Paradise.  But  in  saying  this  we  do 
not  depreciate  Mary's  song.  It  is,  and  ever  will  be,  the 
Magnificat,  great  in  its  theme,  and  great  in  its  concep- 
tion. Following  the  flight  of  Hannah's  song,  and  mak- 
ing use  of  its  wings  at  times,  it  soars  far  above,  and 
sweeps  far  beyond  its  original.  Not  even  David  sings 
of  Jehovah  in  more  exalted  strains.  The  holiness  of 
God,  the  might  supreme  above  all  powers,  the  faithful- 
ness that  cannot  forget,  and  that  never  fails  to  fulfil, 
the  Divine  choice  and  exaltation  of  the  lowly — these 
four  chief  chords  of  the  Hebrew  Psalter  Mary  strikes 
with  a  touch  that  is  sweet  as  it  is  clear. 

Mary  sang  of  God ;  she  did  not  sing  of  the  Christ. 
Indeed,  how  could  she  ?  The  Christ  to  be  was  part  of 
her  own  life,  part  of  herself ;  how  could  she  sing  Hit 
praise  without  an  appearance  of  egotism  and  self-gratu- 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


lation  ?  There  are  times  when  silence  is  more  eloquent 
than  speech ;  and  Mary's  silence  about  the  Christ  was 
but  the  silence  of  the  winged  cherubim,  as  they  bend 
over  the  ark,  beholding  and  feeling  a  mystery  they  can 
neither  know  nor  tell.  It  was  the  hush  inspired  by 
a  near  and  glorious  presence.  And  so  the  Magnificat^ 
while  it  tells  us  nothing  of  the  Christ,  swings  our 
thoughts  around  towards  Him,  sets  us  listening  for 
His  advent ;  and  Mary's  silence  is  but  the  setting  for 
the  Incarnate  WORD. 

The  song  of  Zacharias  follows  that  of  Mary,  not 
only  in  the  order  of  time,  but  also  in  its  sequence  of 
thought.  It  forms  a  natural  postlude  to  the  Magnificat^ 
while  both  are  but  different  parts  of  one  song,  this 
earliest  "  Messiah."  It  is  something  remarkable  that 
our  first  three  Christian  hymns  should  have  their  birth 
in  the  same  nameless  city  of  Judah,  in  the  same  house, 
and  probably  in  the  same  chamber;  for  the  room, 
which  now  is  filled  with  the  priest's  relatives,  and 
where  Zacharias  breaks  the  long  silence  with  his  pro- 
phetic BenedictuSf  is  doubtless  the  same  room  where 
Elisabeth  chanted  her  greeting,  and  Mary  sang  her 
Magnificat.  The  song  of  Mary  circled  about  the 
throne  of  Jehovah,  nor  could  she  leave  that  throne, 
even  to  tell  the  great  things  the  Lord  had  done  for 
her.  Zacharias,  coming  down  from  his  mount  of  vision 
and  of  silence,  gives  us  a  wider  outlook  into  the 
Divine  purpose.  He  sings  of  the  "  salvation  "  of  the 
Lord ;  and  salvation,  as  it  is  the  key-note  of  the  heavenly 
song,  is  the  key-note  of  the  Benedictus.  Does  he  bless 
the  Lord,  the  God  of  Israel?  it  is  because  He  has 
"  visited  "  (or  looked  upon)  "  His  people,  and  wrought 
redemption  for "  them ;  it  is  because  He  has  provided 
an  abundant  salvation,  or  a  "horn  of  salvation,"  as 


THE  GOSPEL  PSALMS.  43 

he  calls  it.  Has  God  remembered  His  covenant,  "  the 
oath  He  sware  unto  Abraham "  ?  has  He  "  shown 
mercy  towards  their  fathers  "  ?  that  mercy  and  faithful- 
ness are  seen  in  this  wonderful  salvation — a  salvation 
"  from  their  enemies,"  and  **  from  the  hand  of  all  that 
hate"  them.  Is  his  child  to  be  "the  prophet  of  the 
Most  High,"  going  "  before  the  face  of  the  Lord,"  and 
making  "  ready  His  ways  "  ?  it  is  that  he  may  "  give 
knowledge  of"  this  **  salvation,"  in  "  the  remission  of 
sins."  Then  the  psalm  ends,  falling  back  on  its  key- 
note ;  for  who  are  they  who  "  sit  in  darkness  and  the 
shadow  of  death,"  but  a  people  lost  ?  And  who  is  the 
Day-spring  who  visits  them  from  on  high,  who  shines 
upon  their  darkness,  turning  it  into  day,  and  guiding 
their  lost  feet  into  the  way  of  peace,  but  the  Redeemer, 
the  Saviour,  whose  name  is  "  Wonderful "  ?  And  so 
the  Benedtctus,  while  retaining  the  form  and  the  very 
language  of  the  Old,  breathes  the  spirit  of  the  New 
Dispensation.  It  is  a  fragrant  breeze,  blowing  off  from 
the  shores  of  a  new,  and  now  near  world,  a  world 
already  seen  and  possessed  by  Zacharias  in  the  anti- 
cipations of  faith.  The  Saviour  whose  advent  the 
inspired  priest  proclaims  is  no  mere  national  deliverer, 
driving  back  those  eagles  of  Rome,  and  rebuilding  the 
throne  of  his  father  David.  He  might  be  all  that — 
for  even  prophetic  vision  had  not  sweep  of  the  whole 
horizon;  it  only  saw  the  little  segment  of  the  circle 
that  was  Divinely  illumined — but  to  Zacharias  He  was 
more,  a  great  deal  more.  He  was  a  Redeemer  as  well 
as  Deliverer ;  and  a  "  redemption " — for  it  was  a 
Temple  word — meant  a  price  laid  down,  something 
given.  The  salvation  of  which  Zacharias  speaks  is  not 
•imply  a  deliverance  from  our  political  enemies,  and 
from  the  hand  of  all  that  hate  us.     It  was  a  salvation 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE. 


higher,  broader,  deeper  than  that,  a  "  salvation  "  that 
reached  to  the  profound  depths  of  the  human  soul,  and 
that  sounded  its  jubilee  there,  in  the  remission  of  sin 
and  deliverance  from  sin.  Sin  was  the  enemy  to  be 
vanquished  and  destroyed,  and  the  shadow  of  death 
was  but  the  shadow  of  sin.  And  Zacharias  sings 
of  this  great  redemption  that  leads  to  salvation,  while 
the  salvation  leads  into  the  Divine  peace,  to  "  holiness 
and  righteousness,"  and  a  service  that  is  "  without 
fear." 

The  ark  of  Israel  was  borne  by  four  of  the  sons  of 
Kohath;  and  here  this  ark  of  song  and  prophecy  is 
borne  of  four  sweet  singers,  the  sexes  dividing  the 
honours  equally.  We  have  listened  to  the  songs  of 
three,  and  have  seen  how  they  follow  each  other  in 
<l  regular,  rhythmic  succession,  the  thought  moving 
forward  and  outward  in  ever-widening  circles.  Where 
is  the  fourth  ?  and  what  is  the  burden  of  his  song  ? 
It  is  heard  within  the  precincts  of  the  Temple,  as  the 
parents  bring  the  Child  Jesus,  to  introduce  Him  to 
the  visible  sanctities  of  religion,  and  to  consecrate  Him 
to  the  Lord.  It  is  the  Nunc  Dimittis  of  the  aged 
Simeon.  He  too  sings  of  "  salvation,"  "  Thy  salvation  '* 
as  he  calls  it  It  is  the  "  consolation  of  Israel "  he 
has  looked  for  so  ardently  and  so  long,  and  which  the 
Holy  Ghost  had  assured  him  he  should  behold  before 
his  promotion  to  the  higher  temple.  But  the  vision 
of  Simeon  was  wider  than  that  of  Zacharias,  as  that 
in  turn  was  wider  and  clearer  than  the  vision  of  Mary. 
Zacharias  saw  the  spiritual  nature  of  this  near  salvation, 
and  he  described  it  in  words  singularly  deep  and 
accurate;  but  its  breadth  he  did  not  seem  to  realize. 
The  theocracy  was  the  atmosphere  in  which  he  lived 
and  moved;  and  even  his  vision  was  theocratic,  and 


THE  GOSPEL  PSALMS, 


SO  somewhat  narrow.  His  Benedicttis  was  for  the  "  God 
of  Israel,"  and  the  "redemption"  he  sang  was  "for 
His  people."  The  "  horn  of  salvation  "  is  "  for  us ; " 
and  all  through  his  psalm  these  first  personal  pronouns 
are  frequent  and  emphatic,  as  if  he  would  still  insulate 
this  favoured  people,  and  give  them  a  monopoly  even 
of  "redemption."  The  aged  Simeon,  however,  stands 
on  a  higher  Pisgah.  His  is  the  nearer  and  the  clearer 
vision.  Standing  as  he  does  in  the  Court  of  the 
Gentiles,  and  holding  in  his  arms  the  Infant  Christ, 
"the  Lord's  Christ,"  he  sees  in  Him  a  Saviour  for 
humanity,  "  the  Lamb  of  God,  who  taketh  away  the  sin 
of  the  world."  Still,  as  ever,  "  the  glory  of  God's 
people  Israel,"  but  likewise  "  a  light  for  the  unveiling 
of  the  Gentiles."  Like  the  sentry  who  keeps  watch 
through  the  night  till  the  sunrise,  Simeon  has  been 
watching  and  longing  for  the  Day-spring  from  on  high, 
reading  from  the  stars  of  promise  the  wearing  of  the 
night,  and  with  the  music  of  fond  hopes  "keeping 
his  heart  awake  till  dawn  of  morn."  Now  at  length 
the  consummation,  which  is  the  consolation,  comes. 
Simeon  sees  in  the  Child  Jesus  the  world's  hope  and 
Light,  a  salvation  "  prepared  before  the  face  of  all 
people."  And  seeing  this,  he  sees  all  he  desires. 
Earth  can  give  no  brighter  vision,  no  deeper  joy,  and 
all  his  request  is — 

"  Now  lettest  Thou  Thy  servant  depart,  O  Lord, 
According  to  Thy  word,  in  peace ; 
For  mine  eyes  have  seen  Thy  salvation." 

And  so  the  four  psalms  of  the  Gospels  form  in 
reality  but  one  song,  the  notes  rising  higher  and  still 
higher,  until  they  reach  the  very  pinnacle  of  the  new 
temple — God's  purpose  and  plan  of  redemption ;  that 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


temple  whose  altar  is  a  cross,  and  whose  Victim  is  "  the 
Lamb  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world ; "  that 
temple  where  courts  and  dividing-lines  all  disappear; 
where  the  Holiest  of  all  lies  open  to  a  redeemed 
humanity,  and  Jews  and  Gentiles,  bond  and  free,  old 
and  young,  are  alike  "  kings  and  priests  unto  God." 
And  so  the  Gospel  psalms  throw  back,  as  it  were,  in  t 
thousand  echoes,  the  Glorias  of  the  Advent  angels,  as 
they  sing — 

**  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest. 
And  on  earth  peace." 

And  what  is  this  but  earth's  prelude  or  rehearsal  for 
the  heavenly  song,  as  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and 
peoples,  and  tongues,  falling  down  before  the  Lamb  in 
the  midst  of  the  throne,  sing,  "Salvation  unto  our 
God,  which  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the 
Lamb"? 


CHAPTER   IV. 
THB    VIRGIN  MOTHSR. 

I^HE  Beautiful  Gate  of  the  Jewish  Temple  opened 
into  the  '^  Court  of  the  Women  " — so  named  from 
the  fact  that  they  were  not  allowed  any  nearer  approach 
towards  the  Holy  Place.  And  as  we  open  the  gate  of 
the  third  Gospel  we  enter  the  Court  of  the  Women ; 
for  more  than  any  other  Evangelist,  St.  Luke  records 
their  loving  and  varied  ministries.  Perhaps  this  is 
owing  to  his  profession,  which  naturally  would  bring 
him  into  more  frequent  contact  with  feminine  life.  Or 
perhaps  it  is  a  little  Philippian  colour  thrown  into  his 
Gospel ;  for  we  must  not  forget  that  St  Luke  had  been 
left  by  the  Apostle  Paul  at  Philippi,  to  superintend  the 
Church  that  had  been  cradled  in  the  prayers  of  the 
"  river-side "  women.  It  may  be  a  tinge  of  Lydia's 
purple;  or  to  speak  more  broadly  and  more  literally, 
it  may  be  the  subtle,  unconscious  influences  of  that 
Philippian  circle  that  have  given  a  certain  feminity  to 
our  third  Gospel.  St,  Luke  alone  gives  us  the  psalms 
of  the  three  women,  Anna,  Elisabeth,  and  Mary;  he 
alone  gives  us  the  names  of  Susanna  and  Joanna,  who 
ministered  to  Christ  of  their  substance ;  he  alone  gives 
us  that  Galilean  idyll,  where  the  nameless  "  woman  " 
bathes  His  feet  with  tears,  and  at  the  same  time  rains 
a  hot  rebuke  on  the  cold  civilities  of  the  Pharisee, 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 


Simon ;  he  alone  tells  of  the  widow  of  Zarephath,  who 
welcomed  and  saved  a  prophet  men  were  seeking  to 
slay ;  he  alone  tells  us  of  the  widow  of  Nain,  of  the 
woman  bent  with  infirmity,  and  of  the  woman  grieving 
over  her  lost  piece  of  silvei.  And  as  St.  Luke  opens 
his  Gospel  with  woman's  tribute  of  song,  so  in  his  last 
chapter  he  paints  for  us  that  group  of  women,  constant 
amid  man's  inconstancies,  coming  ere  the  break  of  day, 
to  wrap  around  the  body  of  the  dead  Christ  the  precious 
and  fragrant  offering  of  devotion.  So,  in  this  Paradise 
Restored,  do  Eve's  daughters  roll  back  the  reproach  of 
their  mother.  But  ever  first  and  foremost  among  the 
women  of  the  Gospels  we  must  place  the  Virgin 
Mother,  whose  character  and  position  in  the  Gospel 
story  we  are  now  to  consider. 

We  need  not  stay  to  discuss  the  question — perhaps 
we  ought  not  to  stay  even  to  give  it  a  passing  notice — 
whether  there  might  have  been  an  Incarnation  even 
had  there  been  no  sin.  It  is  not  an  impossible,  it  is 
not  an  improbable  supposition,  that  the  Christ  would 
have  come  into  the  world  even  had  man  kept  his  first 
estate  of  innocence  and  bliss.  But  then  it  would  have 
been  the  "  Christ "  simply,  and  not  Jesus  Christ.  He 
would  have  come  into  the  world,  not  as  its  Redeemer, 
but  as  the  Son  and  Heir,  laying  tribute  on  all  its 
harvests;  He  would  have  come  as  the  flower  and 
crown  of  a  perfected  humanity,  to  show  the  possibilities 
of  that  humanity,  its  absolute  perfections.  But  leaving 
the  "might-have-beens,"  in  whose  tenuous  spaces  there 
is  room  for  the  nebulae  of  fancies  and  of  guesses  with- 
out number,  let  us  narrow  our  vision  within  the  horizon 
of  the  real,  the  actual 

Given  the  necessity  for  an  Incarnation,  there  are  two 
modes  in  which  that  Incarnation  may  be  brought  about 


THE   VIRGIN  MOTHER. 


— by  creation,  or  by  birth.  The  first  Adam  came  into 
the  world  by  the  creative  act  of  God.  Without  the 
intervention  of  second  causes,  or  any  waiting  for  the 
slow  lapse  of  time,  God  spake,  and  it  was  done.  Will 
Scripture  repeat  itself  here,  in  the  new  Genesis  ?  and 
will  the  second  Adam,  coming  into  the  world  to  repair 
the  ruin  wrought  by  the  first,  come  as  did  the  first  ? 
We  can  easily  conceive  such  an  advent  to  be  possible ; 
and  if  we  regarded  simply  the  analogies  of  the  case, 
we  might  even  suppose  it  to  be  probable.  But  how 
different  a  Christ  it  would  have  been  I  He  might  still 
have  been  bone  of  our  bone,  flesh  of  our  flesh;  He 
might  have  spoken  the  same  truths,  in  the  same  speech 
and  tone ;  but  He  must  have  lived  apart  from  the  world. 
It  would  not  be  our  humanity  that  He  wore ;  it  would 
only  be  its  shadow,  its  semblance,  playing  before  our 
minds  like  an  illusion.  No,  the  Messiah  must  not  be 
simply  a  second  Adam ;  He  must  be  the  Son  of  Man, 
and  He  cannot  become  Humanity's  Son  except  by  a 
human  birth.  Any  other  advent,  even  though  it  had 
satisfied  the  claims  of  reason,  would  have  failed  to 
satisfy  those  deeper  voices  of  the  heart.  And  so,  on 
the  first  pages  of  Scripture,  before  Eden's  gate  is  shut 
and  locked  by  bolts  of  flame.  Heaven  signifies  its 
intention  and  decision.  The  coming  One,  who  shall 
bruise  the  serpent's  head,  shall  be  the  woman's  "  Seed  " 
— the  Son  of  woman,  that  so  He  may  become  more 
truly  the  Son  of  Man;  while  later  a  strange  expres- 
sion finds  its  way  into  the  sacred  prophecy,  how  "a 
Virgin  shall  conceive,  and  bear  a  son."  It  is  true 
these  words  primarily  might  have  a  local  meaning  and 
fulfilment — though  what  that  narrower  meaning  was 
no  one  can  tell  with  any  approach  to  certainty;  but 
looking  at  the  singularity  of  the  expression,  and  coupling 

4 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 


it  with  the  story  of  the  Advent,  we  can  but  see  in  it 
a  deeper  meaning  and  a  wider  purpose.  Evidently  it 
was  that  the  virgin-conception  might  strike  upon  the 
world's  ear  and  become  a  familiar  thought,  and  that 
it  might  throw  backwards  across  the  pages  of  the  Old 
Testament  the  shadow  of  the  Virgin  Mother.  We  have 
already  seen  how  the  thought  of  a  Messianic  mother- 
hood had  dropped  deep  within  the  heart  of  the  Hebrew 
people,  awaking  hopes,  and  prayers,  and  all  sorts  of 
beautiful  dreams — dreams,  alas  I  that  vanished  with  the 
years,  and  hopes  that  blossomed  but  to  fade.  But  now 
the  hour  is  coming,  that  supreme  hour  for  which  the 
centuries  have  all  been  waiting.  The  forerunner  is 
already  announced,  and  in  twelve  short  weeks  he  who 
loved  to  call  himself  a  Voice  will  break  the  strange 
silence  of  that  Judaean  home.  Whence  will  come  his 
Lord,  who  shall  be  "  greater  than  he  "  ?  Where  shall 
we  find  the  Mother-elect,  for  whom  such  honours  have 
been  reserved — honours  such  as  no  mortal  has  ever 
yet  borne,  and  as  none  will  ever  bear  again  ?  St. 
Luke  tells  us,  "  Now  in  the  sixth  month  the  angel 
Gabriel  was  sent  from  God  unto  a  city  of  Galilee, 
named  Nazareth,  to  a  virgin  betrothed  to  a  man  whose 
name  was  Joseph,  of  the  house  of  David;  and  the 
virgin's  name  was  Mary  "  (R. V.).  And  so  the  Mother- 
designate  takes  her  place  in  this  firmament  of  Scrip- 
ture, silently  and  serenely  as  a  morning  star,  which 
indeed  she  is ;  for  she  shines  in  a  borrowed  splendour, 
taking  her  glories  all  from  Him  around  whom  she 
revolves,  from  Him  who  was  both  her  Son  and  her 
Sun. 

It  will  be  seen  in  the  above  verse  how  particular  the 
Evangelist  is  in  his  topographical  reference,  putting  a 
kind  of  emphasis  upon  the  name  which  now  appears 


THE   VIRGIN  MOTHER.  51 

for  the  first  time  upon  the  pages  of  Scripture.  When 
we  remember  how  Nazareth  was  honoured  by  the 
angel  visit ;  how  it  was,  not  the  chance,  but  the  chosen 
home  of  the  Christ  for  thirty  years ;  how  it  watched  and 
guarded  the  Divine  Infancy,  throwing  into  that  Hfe  its 
powerful  though  unconscious  influences,  even  as  the 
dead  soil  throws  itself  forward  and  upward  into  each 
separate  flower  and  farthest  leaf;  when  we  remember 
how  it  linked  its  own  name  with  the  Name  of  Jesus, 
becoming  almost  a  part  of  it ;  how  it  wrote  its  name 
upon  the  cross,  then  handing  it  down  to  the  ages  as 
the  name  and  watchword  of  a  sect  that  should  conquer 
the  world,  we  must  admit  that  Nazareth  is  by  no  means 
"the  least  among  the  cities"  of  Israel.  And  yet  we 
search  in  vain  through  the  Old  Testament  for  the  name 
of  Nazareth.  History,  poetry,  and  prophecy  alike  pass 
it  by  in  silence.  And  so  the  Hebrew  mind,  while 
rightly  linking  the  expected  One  with  Bethlehem,  never 
associated  the  Christ  with  Nazareth.  Indeed,  its  mo- 
ralities had  become  so  questionable  and  proverbial 
that  while  the  whole  of  Galilee  was  too  dry  a  ground 
to  grow  a  prophet,  Nazareth  was  thought  incapable  of 
producing  "  any  good  thing."  Was,  then,  the  Nazareth 
chapter  of  the  Christ-life  an  afterthought  of  the  Divine 
Mind,  like  the  marginal  reading  of  an  author's  proof, 
put  in  to  fill  up  a  blank  or  to  be  a  substitute  for  some 
erasure?  Not  so.  It  had  been  in  the  Divine  Mind 
from  the  beginning;  yea,  it  had  been  in  the  autho- 
rized text,  though  men  had  not  read  it  plainly.  It  is 
St.  Matthew  who  first  calls  our  attention  to  it.  Writing, 
as  he  does,  mainly  for  Hebrew  readers,  he  is  constantly 
looping  up  his  story  with  the  Old  Testament  prophecies; 
and  speaking  of  the  return  from  Egypt,  he  says  they 
''came  and  dwelt  ia  a  city  called  Nazareth:  that  it 


THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by  the  prophets, 
that  He  should  be  called  a  Nazarene."  We  said  just 
now  that  the  name  of  Nazareth  was  not  found  in  the 
Old  Testament.  But  if  we  do  not  find  the  proper 
name,  we  find  the  word  which  is  identical  with  the 
name.  It  is  now  regarded  by  competent  authorities  as 
proved  that  the  Hebrew  name  for  Nazareth  was  Netser. 
Taking  now  this  word  in  our  mind,  and  turning  to 
Isaiah  xi.  I,  we  read,  "And  there  shall  come  forth  a 
shoot  out  of  the  stock  of  Jesse,  and  a  branch  [Netser] 
out  of  his  roots  shall  bear  fruit :  and  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  shall  rest  upon  Him."  Here,  then,  evidently, 
is  the  prophetic  voice  to  which  St.  Matthew  refers; 
and  one  little  word — the  name  of  Nazareth — becomes 
the  golden  link  binding  in  one  the  Prophecies  and  the 
Gospels. 

Returning  to  our  main  subject,  it  is  to  this  secluded, 
and  somewhat  despised  city  of  Nazareth  the  angel 
Gabriel  is  now  sent,  to  announce  the  approaching  birth 
of  Christ.  St.  Luke,  in  his  nominative  way  of  speaking, 
says  he  came  "  to  a  Virgin  betrothed  to  a  man  whose 
name  was  Joseph,  of  the  house  of  David ;  and  the 
Virgin's  name  was  Mary."  It  is  difficult  for  us  to  form 
an  unbiassed  estimate  of  the  character  before  us,  as 
our  minds  are  feeling  the  inevitable  recoil  from  Roman 
assumptions.  We  are  confused  with  the  childish  prattle 
of  their  Ave  Marias;  we  are  amused  at  their  dogmas  of 
Immaculate  Conceptions  and  Ever  Virginities;  we  are 
surprised  and  shocked  at  their  apotheosis  of  the  Virgin, 
as  they  lift  her  to  a  throne  practically  higher  than  that 
of  her  Son,  worshipped  in  devouter  homage,  suppli- 
cated with  more  earnest  and  more  frequent  prayers, 
and  at  the  blasphemies  of  their  Mariolatry,  which 
make  her  supreme  on  earth  and  supreme  in  heaven. 


THE  VIRGIN  MOTHER, 


This  undue  exaltation  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  which 
becomes  an  adoration  pure  and  simple,  sends  our  Protes- 
tant thought  with  a  violent  swing  to  the  extreme  of  the 
other  side,  considerably  over  the  line  of  the  "golden 
mean."  And  so  we  find  it  hard  to  dissociate  in  our 
minds  the  Virgin  Mother  from  these  Marian  assumptions 
and  divinations;  for  which,  however,  she  herself  is  in 
no  way  responsible,  and  against  which  she  would  be 
the  first  to  protest.  Seen  only  through  these  Romish 
haloes,  and  atmospheres  highly  incensed,  her  very  name 
has  been  distorted,  and  her  features,  spoiled  of  all  grace 
and  sweet  serenity,  have  ceased  to  be  attractive.  But 
this  is  not  just.  If  Rome  weights  one  scale  with  crowns, 
and  sceptres,  and  piles  of  imperial  purple,  we  need  not 
load  down  the  other  with  our  prejudices,  satires,  and 
negations.  Two  wrongs  will  not  make  a  right.  It  is 
neither  on  the  crest  of  the  wave,  nor  yet  in  the  deep 
trough  of  the  billows,  that  we  shall  find  the  mean  sea- 
level,  from  which  we  can  measure  all  heights,  running 
out  our  lines  even  among  the  stars.  Can  we  not  find 
that  mean  sea-level  now,  hushing  alike  the  voices  of 
adulation  and  of  depreciation  ?  Laying  aside  the  tradi- 
tions of  antiquity  and  the  legends  of  scribulous  monks, 
laying  aside,  too,  the  coloured  glasses  of  our  prejudice, 
with  which  we  have  been  wont  to  protect  our  eyes  from 
the  glare  of  Roman  suns,  may  we  not  get  a  true  por- 
traiture of  the  Virgin  Mother,  in  all  the  native  natural- 
ness of  Scripture  ?     We  think  we  can. 

She  comes  upon  us  silently  and  suddenly,  emerging 
from  an  obscurity  whose  secrets  we  cannot  read.  No 
mention  is  made  of  her  parents;  tradition  only  has 
supplied  us  with  their  names — ^Joachim  and  Anna.  But 
whether  Joachim  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  her  father 
was  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,  and  of  the  house  of  David. 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 


Having  this  fact  to  guide  us,  and  also  another  fact, 
that  Mary  was  closely  related  to  Elisabeth — though  not 
necessarily  her  cousin — who  was  of  the  tribe  of  Levi 
and  a  daughter  of  Aaron,  then  it  becomes  probable,  at 
least,  that  the  unnamed  mother  of  the  Virgin  was  of 
the  tribe  of  Levi,  and  so  the  connecting-link  between 
the  houses  of  Levi  and  Judah — a  probability  which 
receives  an  indirect  but  strong  confirmation  in  the  fact 
that  Nazareth  was  intimately  connected  with  Jerusalem 
and  the  Temple,  one  of  the  cities  selected  as  a  residence 
of  the  priests.  May  we  not,  then,  suppose  that  this 
unnamed  mother  of  the  Virgin  was  a  daughter  of  one 
of  the  priests  then  residing  at  Nazareth,  and  that  Mary's 
relatives  on  the  mother's  side — some  of  them — were 
also  priests,  going  up  at  stated  times  to  Jerusalem,  to 
perform  their  "  course  "  of  Temple  services  ?  It  is  cer- 
tainly a  most  natural  supposition,  and  one,  too,  that 
will  help  to  remove  som«  subsequent  difficulties  in  the 
story ;  as,  for  instance,  the  )ournej  of  Mary  to  Judaea. 
Some  honest  minds  have  stumbled  at  that  long  journey 
of  a  hundred  miles,  while  others  have  grown  pathetic 
in  their  descriptions  of  that  lonely  pilgrimage  of  the 
Galilean  Virgin.  But  it  is  neither  necessary  nor  likely 
that  Mary  should  take  the  journey  alone.  Her  connec- 
tion with  the  priesthood,  if  our  supposition  be  correct, 
would  find  her  an  escort,  even  among  her  own  relatives, 
as  least  as  far  as  Jerusalem;  and  since  the  priestly 
courses  were  half-yearly  in  their  service,  it  would  be 
just  the  time  the  "  course  of  Abijah,"  in  which  Zacharias 
served,  would  be  returning  once  again  to  their  Judaean 
homes.  It  is  only  a  supposition,  it  is  true,  but  it  is  a 
supposition  that  is  extremely  natural  and  more  than 
probable;  and  if  we  look  through  it,  taking  "Levi" 
and   "Judah"   as  our  binocular  lenses,  it  carries  a 


THE    VIRGIN  MOTHER.  5J 

thread  of  light  through  otherwise  dark  places;  while 
throwing  our  sight  forward,  it  brings  distant  Nazareth 
in  line  with  Jerusalem  and  the  "  hill-country  of  Judaea." 
Betrothed  to  Joseph,  who  was  of  the  royal  line,  and 
as  some  think,  the  legal  heir  to  David's  throne,  Mary 
was  probably  not  more  than  twenty  years  of  age. 
Whether  an  orphan  or  not  we  cannot  tell,  though  the 
silence  of  Scripture  would  almost  lead  us  to  suppose 
that  she  was.  Papias,  however,  who  was  a  disciple 
of  St.  John,  states  that  she  had  two  sisters — Mary  the 
wife  of  Cleophas,  and  Mary  Salome  the  wife  of  Zebedee. 
If  this  be  so — and  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should 
discredit  the  statement — then  Mary  the  Virgin  Mother 
would  probably  be  the  eldest  of  the  three  sisters,  the 
house-mother  in  the  Nazareth  home.  Where  it  was 
that  the  angel  appeared  to  her  we  cannot  tell.  Tradi- 
tion, with  one  of  its  random  guesses,  has  fixed  the  spot 
in  the  suburbs,  beside  the  fountain.  But  there  is  some- 
thing incongruous  and  absurd  in  the  selection  of  such 
a  place  for  an  angelic  appearance — the  public  resort  and 
lounge,  where  the  clatter  of  feminine  gossip  was  about 
as  constant  as  the  flow  and  sparkle  of  its  waters.  In- 
deed, the  very  form  of  the  participle  disposes  of  that 
tradition,  for  we  read,  "  He  came  in  unto  her,"  implying 
that  it  was  within  her  holy  place  of  home  the  angel 
found  her.  Nor  is  there  any  need  to  suppose,  as  some 
do,  that  it  was  in  her  quiet  chamber  of  devotion,  where 
she  was  observing  the  stated  hours  of  prayer.  Celes- 
tials do  not  draw  that  broad  line  of  distinction  between 
so-called  secular  and  sacred  duties.  To  them  "  work  " 
it  but  another  form  of  "  worship,"  and  all  duties  to  them 
are  sacred,  even  when  they  lie  among  life's  temporal, 
and  so-called  secular  things.  Indeed,  Heaven  reserve! 
its  highest  visions,  not  for  those  quiet  moments  of  still 


56  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

devotion,  but  for  the  hours  of  busy  toil,  when  mind  and 
body  are  given  to  the  "  trivial  rounds  "  and  the  "  com- 
mon tasks"  of  every-day  life.  Moses  is  at  his  shepherding 
when  the  bush  calls  him  aside,  with  its  tongues  of  fire ; 
Gideon  is  threshing  out  his  wheat  when  God's  angel 
greets  him  and  summons  him  to  the  higher  task ;  and 
Zacharias  is  performing  the  routine  service  of  his 
priestly  office  when  Gabriel  salutes  him  with  the  first 
voice  of  a  New  Dispensation.  And  so  all  the  analogies 
would  lead  us  to  suppose  that  the  Virgin  was  quietly 
engaged  in  her  domestic  duties,  offering  the  sacrifice  of 
her  daily  task,  as  Zacharias  offered  his  incense  of  stacte 
and  onycha,  when  Gabriel  addressed  her,  "Hail,  thou 
that  art  highly  favoured,  the  Lord  is  with  thee  "  (R.V.). 
The  Romanists,  eager  to  accord  Divine  honours  to  the 
Virgin  Mother  as  the  dispenser  of  blessing  and  of  grace, 
interpret  the  phrase,  "  Thou  that  art  full  of  grace."  It 
is,  perhaps,  not  an  inapt  rendering  of  the  word,  and  is 
certainly  more  euphonious  than  our  marginal  reading 
"  much  graced ;  "  but  when  they  make  the  "  grace  "  an 
inherent,  and  not  a  derived  grace,  their  doctrine  slants 
off  from  all  Scripture,  and  is  opposed  to  all  reason. 
That  the  word  itself  gives  no  countenance  to  such  an 
enthronement  of  Mary,  is  evident,  for  St.  Paul  makes 
use  of  the  same  word  when  speaking  of  himself  and 
the  Ephesian  Christians  (Eph.  i.  6),  where  we  render  it 
"  His  grace,  which  He  freely  bestowed  on  us  in  the 
Beloved."  But  criticism  apart,  never  before  had  an 
angel  so  addressed  a  mortal,  for  even  Daniel's  "  greatly 
beloved "  falls  below  this  Nazareth  greeting.  When 
Gabriel  came  to  Zacharias  there  was  not  even  a  '*  Hail ; " 
it  was  simply  a  "  Fear  not,"  and  then  the  message ;  but 
now  he  gives  to  Mary  a  "  Hail "  and  two  beatitudes 
besides :  "  Thou  art  highly  favoured ;"  "  the  Lord  is  with 


THE   VIRGIN  MOTHER. 


thee."  And  do  these  words  mean  nothing  ?  Are  they 
but  a  few  heavenly  courtesies  whose  only  meaning  it 
in  their  sound  ?  Heaven  does  not  speak  thus  with 
random,  unmeaning  words.  Its  voices  are  true,  and 
deep  as  they  are  true,  never  meaning  less,  but  often 
more  than  they  say.  That  the  angel  should  so  address 
her  is  certain  proof  that  the  Virgin  possessed  a  peculiar 
fitness  for  the  Divine  honours  she  was  now  to  receive — 
honours  which  had  been  so  long  held  back,  as  if  in 
reserve  for  herself  alone.  It  is  only  they  who  look 
heavenward  who  see  heavenly  things.  There  must  be  a 
heart  aflame  before  the  bush  burns ;  and  when  the  bush 
is  alight  it  is  only  "  he  who  sees  takes  off  his  shoes." 

The  glimpses  we  get  of  the  Virgin  are  few  and 
brief;  she  is  soon  eclipsed — if  we  may  be  allowed  that 
shadowy  word — by  the  greater  glories  of  her  Son; 
but  why  should  she  be  selected  as  the  mother  of  the 
human  Christ  ?  why  should  her  life  nourish  His  ?  why 
should  the  thirty  years  be  spent  in  her  daily  presence, 
her  face  being  the  first  vision  of  awaking  consciousness, 
as  it  was  in  the  last  earthward  look  from  the  cross  ? — 
why  all  this,  except  that  there  was  a  wealth  of  beauty 
and  of  grace  about  her  nature,  a  certain  tinge  of 
heavenliness  that  made  it  fitting  the  Messiah  should 
be  born  of  her  rather  than  of  any  woman  else  ?  As 
we  have  seen,  the  royal  and  the  priestly  lines  meet  in 
her,  and  Mary  unites  in  herself  all  the  dignity  of  the 
one  with  the  sanctity  of  the  other.  With  what  delicacy 
and  grace  she  receives  the  angel's  message  1  "  Greatly 
troubled  "  at  first — not,  however,  like  Zacharias,  at  the 
sight  of  the  messenger,  but  at  his  message — she  soon 
recovers  herself,  and  "  casts  in  her  mind  what  manner 
of  salutation  this  might  be."  This  sentence  just  de- 
scribes  one  prominent    feature  of  her   character,    her 


58  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

reflective,  reasoning  mind.  Sparing  of  words,  except 
when  under  the  inspiration  of  some  Magnificat,  she 
lived  much  within  herself.  She  loved  the  companion- 
ship of  her  own  thoughts,  finding  a  certain  music  in 
their  still  monologue.  When  the  shepherds  made  known 
the  saying  of  the  angel  about  this  child,  repeating  the 
angelic  song,  perhaps,  with  sundry  variations  of  their 
own,  Mary  is  neither  elated  nor  astonished.  Whatever 
her  feelings — and  they  must  have  been  profoundly 
moved — she  carefully  conceals  them.  Instead  of  telling 
out  her  own  deep  secrets,  letting  herself  drift  out  on  the 
ecstasies  of  the  moment,  Mary  is  silent,  serenely  quiet, 
unwilling  that  even  a  shadow  of  herself  should  dim  the 
brightness  of  His  rising.  *'She  kept,"  so  we  read,  "all 
these  sayings,  pondering  them  in  her  heart ; "  or  putting 
them  together,  as  the  Greek  word  means,  and  so  forming, 
as  in  a  mental  mosaic,  her  picture  of  the  Christ  who  was 
to  be.  And  so,  in  later  years,  we  read  (ii.  51)  how  "  His 
mother  kept  all  these  saying  in  her  heart,"  gathering 
up  the  fragmentary  sentences  of  the  Divine  Childhood 
and  Youth,  and  hiding  them,  as  a  treasure  peculiarly 
her  own,  in  the  deep,  still  chambers  of  her  soul.  And 
what  those  still  chambers  of  her  soul  were,  how  heavenly 
the  atmosphere  that  enswathed  them,  how  hallowed  by 
the  Divine  Presence,  her  Magnificat  will  show ;  for  that 
inspired  psalm  is  but  an  opened  window,  letting  the 
music  pass  without,  as  it  throws  the  light  within, 
showing  us  the  temple  of  a  quiet,  devout,  and  thoughtful 
soul. 

With  what  complacency  and  with  what  little  surprise 
she  received  the  angel's  message  1  The  Incarnation 
does  not  come  upon  her  as  a  new  thought,  a  thought 
for  which  her  mind  cannot  possibly  find  room,  and 
human  speech  can  weave  no  fitting  dress.     It  disturbs 


THE   VIRGIN  MOTHER.  59 


neither  her  reason  nor  her  faith.  Versed  in  Scripture 
as  she  is,  it  comes  rather  as  a  famihar  thought — a 
heavenly  dove,  it  is  true,  but  gliding  down  within  her 
mind  in  a  perfect,  because  a  heavenly  naturalness. 
And  when  the  angel  announces  that  the  "  Son  of  the 
Most  High,"  whose  name  shall  be  called  Jesus,  and 
who  shall  reign  over  the  house  of  Jacob  for  ever, 
shall  be  born  of  herself,  there  is  no  exclamation  of 
astonishment,  no  word  of  incredulity  as  to  whether 
this  can  be,  but  simply  a  question  as  to  the  manner 
of  its  accomplishment :  **  How  shall  this  be,  seeing  that 
I  know  not  a  man  ?  "  The  Christ  had  evidently  been 
conceived  in  her  mind,  and  cradled  in  her  heart,  even 
before  He  became  a  conception  of  her  womb. 

And  what  an  absolute  self-surrender  to  the  Divine 
purpose !  No  sooner  has  the  angel  told  her  that  the 
Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon  her,  and  the  power  of 
the  Most  High  overshadow  her,  than  she  bows  to  the 
Supreme  Will  in  a  lowly,  reverential  acquiescence: 
"  Behold,  the  handmaid  [bondmaid]  of  the  Lord ;  be 
it  unto  mc  according  to  thy  word."  So  do  the  human 
and  the  Divine  wills  meet  and  mingle.  Heaven 
touches  earth,  comes  down  into  it,  that  earth  may 
evermore  touch  heaven,  and  indeed  form  part  of  it 

The  angel  departs,  leaving  her  alone  with  her  great 
secret;  and  little  by  little  it  dawns  upon  her,  as  it 
could  not  have  done  at  first,  what  this  secret  means 
for  her.  A  great  honour  it  is,  a  great  joy  it  will  be ; 
but  Mary  finds,  as  we  all  find,  the  path  to  heaven's 
glories  lies  through  suffering ;  the  way  into  the  wealthy 
place  is  "  through  the  fire."  How  can  she  carry  this 
great  secret  herself?  and  yet  how  can  she  tell  it  ? 
Who  will  believe  her  report?  Will  not  these  Naza- 
renes  laugh  at  her  story  of  the   vision,  except   that 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 


the  matter  would  be  too  grave  for  a  smile  ?  It  is  her 
own  secret  yet,  but  it  cannot  be  a  secret  long ;  and 
then — who  can  defend  her,  and  ward  off  the  inevitable 
shame  ?  Where  can  she  find  shelter  from  the  venomed 
shafts  that  will  be  hurled  from  every  side — where,  save 
in  her  consciousness  of  unsullied  purity,  and  in  the 
"shadow  of  the  Highest"?  Was  it  thoughts  like 
these  that  now  agitated  her  mind,  deciding  her  to 
make  the  hasty  visit  to  Elisabeth  ?  or  was  it  that 
she  might  find  sympathy  and  counsel  in  communion 
with  a  kindred  soul,  one  that  age  had  made  wise,  and 
grace  made  beautiful  ?  Probably  it  was  both ;  but  in 
this  journey  we  will  not  follow  her  now,  except  to  see 
how  her  faith  in  God  never  once  wavered.  We  have 
already  listened  to  her  sweet  song ;  but  what  a  sublime 
faith  it  shows,  that  she  can  sing  in  face  of  this  gather- 
ing storm,  a  storm  of  suspicion  and  of  shame,  when 
Joseph  himself  will  seek  to  put  her  away,  lest  his 
character  should  suffer  too !  But  Mary  believed,  even 
though  she  felt  and  smarted.  She  endured  "  as  seeing 
Him  who  is  invisible."  Could  she  not  safely  leave 
her  character  to  Him  ?  Would  not  the  Lord  avenge 
His  own  elect?  Would  not  Divine  Wisdom  justify 
her  child  ?  Faith  and  hope  said  "  Yes ; "  and  Mary's 
soul,  like  a  nightingale,  trilled  out  her  Magnificat  when 
earth's  light  was  disappearing,  and  the  shadows  were 
falling  thick  and  fast  on  every  side. 

It  is  on  her  return  to  Nazareth,  after  her  three 
months'  absence,  that  the  episode  occurs  narrated  by 
St  Matthew.  It  is  thrown  into  the  story  almost  by 
way  of  parenthesis,  but  it  casts  a  vivid  light  on  the 
painful  experience  through  which  she  was  now  called 
to  pass.  Her  prolonged  absence,  most  unusual  for 
one  betrothed,  was  in  itself  puzzling ;  but  she  retumi 


THE   VIRGIN  MOTHER.  6i 

to  find  only  a  scant  welcome.  She  finds  herself 
suspected  of  shame  and  sin,  "the  white  flower  of 
her  blameless  life "  dashed  and  stained  with  black 
aspersions.  Even  Joseph's  confidence  in  her  is  shaken, 
so  shaken  that  he  must  put  her  away  and  have  the 
betrothal  cancelled.  And  so  the  clouds  darken  about 
the  Virgin ;  she  is  left  almost  alone  in  the  sharp 
travail  of  her  soul,  charged  with  sin,  even  when  she 
is  preparing  for  the  world  a  Saviour,  and  likely,  un- 
less Heaven  speedily  interpose,  to  become  an  outcast, 
if  not  a  martyr,  thrown  outside  the  circle  of  human 
courtesies  and  sympathies  as  a  social  leper.  Like 
another  heir  of  all  the  promises,  she  too  is  led  as 
a  lamb  to  the  slaughter,  a  victim  bound,  and  all  but 
sacrificed,  up®n  the  altar  of  the  public  conscience.  But 
Heaven  did  intervene,  even  as  it  stayed  the  knife  of 
Abraham.  An  angel  appears  to  Joseph,  throwing 
around  th-  suspected  one  the  mantle  of  unsulhed 
innocence,  and  assuring  him  that  her  explanation, 
though  passing  strange,  was  truth  itself.  And  so  the 
Lord  did  avenge  His  own  elect,  stilling  the  babble 
of  unfriendly  tongues,  restoring  to  her  all  the  lost 
confidences,  together  with  a  wealth  of  added  hopes 
and  prospective  honours. 

Not,  however,  out  of  GaHlee  must  the  Shiloh  come, 
but  out  of  Judah ;  and  not  Nazareth,  but  Bethlehem 
Ephratah  is  the  designated  place  of  His  coming  forth 
who  shall  be  the  Governor  and  Shepherd  of  **  My  people 
Israel."  What  means,  then,  this  apparent  divergence 
of  the  Providence  from  the  Prophecy,  the  whole  drift 
of  the  one  being  northward,  while  the  other  points 
steadily  to  the  south  ?  It  is  only  a  seeming  diver- 
gence, the  backward  flash  of  the  wheel  that  all  the  time 
is  moving  steadily,  swiftly  forward.      The  Prophecy 


62  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

and  the  Providence  are  but  the  two  staves  of  the  ark, 
moving  in  different  but  parallel  lines,  and  bearing 
between  them  the  Divine  purpose.  Already  the  line 
is  laid  that  links  Nazareth  with  Bethlehem,  the  line  of 
descent  we  call  lineage;  and  now  we  see  Providence 
setting  in  motion  another  force,  the  Imperial  Will,  which, 
moving  along  this  line,  makes  the  purpose  a  realization. 
Nor  was  it  the  Imperial  Will  only ;  it  was  the  Imperial 
Will  acting  through  Jewish  prejudices.  These  two 
forces,  antagonistic,  if  not  opposite,  were  the  centrifugal 
and  centripetal  forces  that  kept  the  Divine  Purpose 
moving  in  its  appointed  round  and  keeping  Divine 
hours.  Had  the  registration  decreed  by  Csesar  been 
conducted  after  the  Roman  manner,  Joseph  and  Mary 
would  not  have  been  required  to  go  up  to  Bethlehem  ; 
but  when,  out  of  deference  to  Jewish  prejudice,  the 
registration  was  made  in  the  Hebrew  mode,  this  com- 
pelled them,  both  being  descendants  of  David,  to  go 
up  to  their  ancestral  city.  It  has  been  thought  by 
some  that  Mify  possessed  some  inherited  property  in 
Bethlehem ;  and  the  narrative  would  suggest  that  there 
were  other  links  that  bound  them  to  the  city;  for 
evidently  they  intended  to  make  Bethlehem  henceforth 
their  place  of  residence,  and  they  would  have  done  so 
had  not  a  Divine  monition  broken  in  upon  their  purpose 
(Matt  ii.  23). 

And  so  they  move  southward,  obeying  the  mandate 
of  Caesar,  who  now  is  simply  the  executor  of  the 
higher  Will,  the  Will  that  moves  silently  but  surely, 
back  of  all  thrones,  principaUties,  and  powers.  We 
will  not  attempt  to  gild  the  gold,  by  enlarging  upon 
the  story  of  the  Nativity,  and  so  robbing  it  of  its  sweet 
simplicity.  The  toilsome  journey;  its  inhospitable 
ending ;  the  stable  and  the  manger ;  the  angelic  sym- 


THE    y IRQ  IN  MOTHER.  63 

phonies  in  the  distance ;  the  adoration  of  the  shepherds 
— all  form  one  sweet  idyll,  no  word  of  which  we  can 
spare;  and  as  the  Church  chants  her  TV  Deum 
all  down  the  ages  this  will  not  be  one  of  its  lowest 
strains : — 

"  When  Thou  tookest  upon  Thee  to  deliver  maa 
Thou  didst  not  abhor  the  Virgin's  womb." 

And  so  the  Virgin  becomes  the  Virgin  Mother, 
graduating  into  motherhood  amid  the  acclamations  of 
the  sky,  and  borne  on  to  her  exalted  honours  in  the 
sweep  of  Imperial  decrees. 

After  the  Nativity  she  sinks  back  into  a  second — 
a  far-off  second — place,  for  ''the  greater  glory  doth 
dim  the  less ; "  and  twice  only  does  her  voice  break 
the  silence  of  the  thirty  years.  We  hear  it  first  in  the 
Temple,  as,  in  tones  tremulous  with  anxiety  and  sorrow, 
she  asks,  "  Son,  why  hast  Thou  thus  dealt  with  us  ? 
Behold,  Thy  father  and  I  sought  Thee  sorrowing." 
The  whole  incident  is  perplexing,  and  if  we  read  it 
superficially,  not  staying  to  read  between  the  lines,  it 
certainly  places  the  mother  in  anything  but  a  favourable 
light.  Let  us  observe,  however,  that  there  was  no  neces- 
sity that  the  mother  should  have  made  this  pilgrimage, 
and  evidently  she  had  made  it  so  that  she  might  be  near 
her  precious  charge.  But  now  she  strangely  loses 
sight  of  Him,  and  goes  even  a  day's  journey  without 
discovering  her  loss.  How  is  this  ?  Has  she  suddenly 
grown  careless  ?  or  does  she  lose  both  herself  and  her 
charge  in  the  excitements  of  the  return  journey? 
Thoughtfulness,  as  we  have  seen,  was  a  characteristic 
feature  of  her  life.  Hers  was  "  the  harvest  of  the 
quiet  eye,"  and  her  thoughts  centred  not  on  herself, 
but  on  her  Divine  Son ;  He  was  her  Alpha  and  Omega, 


64  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE 

her  first,  her  last,  her  only  thought.  It  is  altogether 
outside  the  range  of  possibilities  that  she  now  could 
be  so  negligent  of  her  maternal  duties,  and  so  we  are 
compelled  to  seek  for  our  explanation  elsewhere.  May 
we  not  find  it  in  this  ?  The  parents  had  left  Jerusalem 
earlier  in  the  day,  arranging  for  the  child  Jesus  to 
follow  with  another  part  of  the  same  company,  which, 
leaving  later,  would  overtake  them  at  their  first  camp. 
But  Jesus  not  appearing  when  the  second  company 
starts,  they  imagine  that  He  has  gone  on  with  the 
first  company,  and  so  proceed  without  Him.  This 
seems  the  only  probable  solution  of  the  difficulty;  at 
any  rate  it  makes  plain  and  perfectly  natural  what 
else  is  most  obscure  and  perplexing.  Mary's  mistake, 
however — and  it  was  not  her  fault — opens  to  us  a  page 
in  the  sealed  volume  of  the  Divine  Boyhood,  letting  us 
hear  its  solitary  voice — "  Wist  ye  not  that  I  must  be 
in  My  Father's  house  ?  " 

We  see  the  mother  again  at  Cana,  where  she  is  an 
invited  and  honoured  guest  at  the  marriage,  moving 
about  among  the  servants  with  a  certain  quiet  authority, 
and  telling  her  Divine  Son  of  the  breakdown  in  the 
hospitalities  :  "  They  have  no  wine."  We  cannot  now 
go  into  details,  but  evidently  there  was  no  distancing 
reserve  between  the  mother  and  her  Son.  She  goes 
to  Him  naturally ;  she  speaks  to  Him  freely  and 
frankly,  as  any  widow  would  speak  to  the  son  on 
whom  she  leaned.  Nay,  she  seems  to  know,  as  by  a 
sort  of  intuition,  of  the  superhuman  powers  that  are 
lying  dormant  in  that  quiet  Son  of  hers,  and  she  so 
correctly  reads  the  horoscope  of  Heaven  as  to  expect 
this  will  be  the  hour  and  the  place  of  their  manifesta- 
tion. Perhaps  her  mind  did  not  grasp  the  true  Divinity 
of  her  Son — indeed,  it  could  not  have  done  so  before 


tllE   VIRGIN  MOTHER,  65 

the  Re3urrection — but  that  He  is  the  Messiah  she  has 
no  doubt,  and  so,  strong  in  her  confidence,  she  says  to 
the  servants,  "  Whatsoever  He  saith  unto  you,  do  it." 
And  her  faith  must  have  been  great  indeed,  when  it 
required  a  *'  whatsoever "  to  measure  it.  Some  have 
thought  they  could  detect  a  tinge  of  impatience  and  a 
tone  of  rebuke  in  the  reply  of  Jesus;  and  doubtless 
there  is  a  little  sharpness  in  our  English  rendering  of 
it.  It  does  sound  to  our  ears  somewhat  unfilial  and 
harsh.  But  to  the  Greeks  the  address  '^  Woman  "  was 
both  courteous  and  respectful,  and  Jesus  Himself  uses 
it  in  that  last  tender  salute  from  the  cross.  Certainly, 
she  did  not  take  it  as  a  rebuke,  for  one  harsh  word, 
like  the  touch  on  the  sensitive  plant,  would  have  thrown 
her  back  into  silence ;  whereas  she  goes  off  directly  to 
the  servants  with  her  "  whatsoever." 

We  get  one  more  brief  glimpse  of  her  at  Capernaum, 
as  she  and  her  other  sons  come  out  to  Jesus  to  urge 
Him  to  desist  from  His  long  speaking.  It  is  but  a 
simple  narrative,  but  it  serves  to  throw  a  side-light  on 
that  home-life  now  removed  to  Capernaum.  It  shows 
us  the  thoughtful,  loving  mother,  as,  forgetful  of  herself 
and  full  of  solicitude  for  Him,  who,  she  fears,  will  tax 
Himself  beyond  His  strength,  she  comes  out  to  per- 
suade Him  home.  But  what  is  the  meaning  of  that 
strange  answer,  and  the  significant  gesture  ?  "  Mother," 
"  brethren  "  ?  It  is  as  if  Jesus  did  not  understand  the 
words.  They  are  something  He  has  now  outgrown, 
something  He  must  now  lay  aside,  as  He  gives  Himself 
to  the  world  at  large.  As  there  comes  a  time  in  the 
life  of  each  when  the  mother  is  forsaken — left,  that  he 
may  follow  a  higher  call,  and  be  himself  a  man — so 
Jesus  now  steps  out  into  a  world  where  Mary's  heart, 
indeed,  may  still  follow,  but  a  world  her  mind  may  not 

5 


66  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

enter.  The  earthly  relation  is  henceforth  to  be  over- 
shadowed by  the  heavenly.  The  Son  of  Mary  grows 
into  the  Son  of  man,  belonging  now  to  no  special  one, 
but  to  humanity  at  large,  finding  in  all,  even  in  us, 
who  do  the  will  of  the  Father  in  heaven,  a  brother,  a 
sister,  a  mother.  Not  that  Jesus  forgets  her.  Oh,  no  I 
Even  amid  the  agonies  of  the  cross  He  thinks  of  her ; 
He  singles  her  out  among  the  crowd,  bespeaking  for 
her  a  place — the  place  He  Himself  has  filled — in  the 
heart  of  His  nearest  earthly  friend ;  and  amid  the 
prayer  for  His  murderers,  and  the  "  Eloi,  Eloi  "  of  a 
terrible  forsaking,  He  says  to  the  Apostle  of  love, 
"  Behold  thy  mother,"  and  to  her,  *'  Behold  thy  son." 

And  so  the  Virgin  Mother  takes  her  place  in  the 
focal  point  of  all  the  histories.  Through  no  choice, 
no  conceit  or  forwardness  of  her  own,  but  by  the  grace 
of  God  and  by  an  inherent  fitness,  she  becomes 
the  connecting-link  between  earth  and  heaven.  And 
throwing,  as  she  does,  her  unconscious  shadow  back 
within  the  Paradise  Lost,  and  forward  through  the 
Gospels  to  the  Paradise  Regained,  shall  we  not  "  mag- 
nify the  Lord  "  with  her  ?  shall  we  not  "  magnify  the 
Lord"  for  her,  as,  with  all  the  generations,  we  "call 
her  blessed"? 


CHAPTER    V. 

TBM  ADORATION  OF  THE  SHBPHERDX 

LuKx  il  8-ai. 

THE  Gospel  of  St.  Mark  omits  entirely  the  Nativity, 
passing  at  once  to  the  words  and  miracles  of  His 
public  ministry.  St.  John,  too,  dismisses  the  Advent 
and  the  earlier  years  of  the  Divine  Life  with  one^ 
solitary  phrase,  how  the  Word,  which  in  the  beginning 
was  with  God  and  was  God,  "  became  flesh  and  dwelt 
among  us  "  (i.  14).  St.  Luke,  however,  whose  Gospel 
is  the  Gospel  of  the  Humanity,  Hngers  reverently  over 
the  Nativity,  throwing  a  variety  of  side-lights  upon  the 
cradle  of  the  Holy  Child.  Already  has  he  shown  how 
the  Roman  State  prepared  the  cradle  of  the  Infancy, 
and  how  Caesar  Augustus  unconsciously  wrought  out 
the  purpose  of  God,  the  breath  of  his  imperial  decree 
being  but  part  of  a  higher  inspiration;  and  now  he 
proceeds  to  show  how  the  shepherds  of  Judaea  bring  the 
greetings  of  the  Hebrew  world,  the  wave-sheaf  of  the 
ripening  harvests  of  homage  which  yet  will  be  laid,  by 
Jew  and  Gentile  alike,  at  the  feet  of  Him  who  was  Son 
of  David  and  Son  of  man. 

It  is  generally  supposed  that  these  anonymous 
shepherds  were  residents  of  Bethlehem,  and  tradition 
has  fixed  the  exact  spot  where  they  were  favoured  with 
thii  Advent  Apocalypse,  about  a  thousand  paces  from 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


the  modern  village.  It  is  a  historic  fact  that  there  was 
a  tower  near  that  site,  called  Eder,  or  "  the  Tower  of 
the  Flock,"  around  which  were  pastured  the  flocks 
destined  for  the  Temple  sacrifice ;  but  the  topography 
of  ver.  8  is  purposely  vague.  The  expression  "  in  that 
same  country,"  written  by  one  who  both  in  years  and 
in  distance  was  far  removed  from  the  events  recorded, 
would  describe  any  circle  within  the  radius  of  a  few 
miles  from  Bethlehem  as  its  centre,  and  the  very 
vagueness  of  the  expression  seems  to  push  back  the 
scene  of  the  Advent  music  to  a  farther  distance  than 
a  thousand  paces.  And  this  view  is  confirmed  by  the 
language  of  the  shepherds  themselves,  who,  when  the 
vision  has  faded,  say  one  to  another,  *'  Let  us  now  go 
even  unto  Bethlehem,  and  see  this  thing  that  is  come  to 
pass  ; "  for  they  scarcely  would  have  needed,  or  used, 
the  adverbial  "  even  "  were  they  keeping  their  flocks  so 
close  up  to  the  walls  of  the  city.  We  may  therefore 
infer,  with  some  amount  of  probability,  that  whether 
the  shepherds  were  residents  of  Bethlehem  or  not, 
when  they  kept  watch  over  their  flocks,  it  was  not  on 
the  traditional  site,  but  farther  away  over  the  hills. 
Indeed,  it  is  difficult,  and  very  often  impossible,  for  us 
to  fix  the  precise  locality  of  these  sacred  scenes,  these 
bright  points  of  intersection,  where  Heaven's  glories 
flash  out  against  the  dull  carbon-points  of  earth ;  and 
the  voices  of  tradition  are  at  best  but  doubtful  guesses. 
It  would  almost  seem  as  if  God  Himself  had  wiped  out 
these  memories,  hiding  them  away,  as  He  hid  the 
sepulchre  of  Moses,  lest  the  world  should  pay  them  too 
great  a  homage,  and  lest  we  might  think  that  one 
place  lay  nearer  to  heaven  than  another,  when  all 
places  are  equally  distant,  or  rather  equally  near.  It 
is  enough  to  know  that  somewhere  on  these  lonely  hills 


ii.8-21.]     THE   ADORATION  OF  THE   SHEF HERDS.         69 

came  the  vision  of  the  angels,  perhaps  on  the  very 
spot  where  David  was  minding  his  sheep  when 
Heaven  summoned  him  to  a  higher  task,  passing  him 
up  among  the  kings. 

While  the  shepherds  were  "  watching  the  watches  of 
the  night  over  their  flock,"  as  the  Evangelist  expresses 
it,  referring  to  the  pastoral  custom  of  dividing  the  night 
into  watches,  and  keeping  watch  by  turns,  suddenly 
"  an  angel  of  the  Lord  stood  by  them,  and  the  glory  of 
the  Lord  shone  round  about  them."  When  the  angel 
appeared  to  Zacharias,  and  when  Gabriel  brought  to 
Mary  her  evangel,  we  do  not  read  of  any  supernatural 
portent,  any  celestial  glory,  attending  them.  Possibly 
because  their  appearances  were  in  the  broad  daylight, 
when  the  glory  would  be  masked,  invisible ;  but  now, 
in  the  dead  of  night,  the  angelic  form  is  bright  and 
luminous,  throwing  all  around  them  a  sort  of  heavenly 
halo,  in  which  even  the  lustrous  Syrian  stars  grow 
dim.  Dazzled  by  the  sudden  burst  of  glory,  the 
shepherds  were  awed  by  the  vision,  and  stricken  with 
a  great  fear,  until  the  angel,  borrowing  the  tones  and 
accents  of  their  own  speech,  addressed  to  them  his 
message,  the  message  he  had  been  commissioned  to 
bring :  ^*  Be  not  afraid  ;  for  behold,  I  bring  you  good 
tidings  of  great  joy  which  shall  be  to  all  the  people :  for 
there  is  born  to  you  this  day  in  the  city  of  David  a 
Saviour,  which  is  Christ  the  Lord."  And  then  he  gave 
them  a  sign  by  which  they  might  recognize  the  Saviour 
Lord :  "  Ye  shall  find  a  babe  wrapped  in  swaddling 
clothes,  and  lying  in  a  manger." 

From  the  indefinite  wording  of  the  narrative  we 
should  infer  that  the  angel  who  brought  the  message  to 
the  shepherds  was  not  Gabriel,  who  had  before  brought 
the  good  tidings  to  Mary.     But  whether  or  not   the 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 


messenger  was  the  same,  the  two  messages  are  almost 
identical  in  structure  and  in  thought,  the  only  difference 
being  the  personal  element  of  the  equation,  and  the 
shifting  of  the  time  from  the  future  to  the  present  tense. 
Both  strike  the  same  key-note,  the  "  Fear  not "  with 
which  they  seek  to  still  the  vibrations  of  the  heart,  that 
the  Virgin  and  the  shepherds  may  not  have  their  vision 
blurred  and  tremulous  through  the  agitation  of  the  mind. 
Both  make  mention  of  the  name  of  David,  which  name 
was  the  key- word  which  unlocked  all  Messianic  hopes. 
Both  speak  of  the  Child  as  a  Saviour — though  Gabriel 
wraps  up  the  title  within  the  name,  "Thou  shalt  call 
His  name  Jesus ; "  for,  as  St.  Matthew  explains  it,  "  it 
is  He  that  shall  save  His  people  from  their  sins."  Both, 
too,  speak  of  Him  as  the  Messiah ;  for  when  the  angel 
now  calls  Him  the  "  Christ  "  it  was  the  same  "  Anointed" 
one  who,  as  Gabriel  had  said,  "  should  reign  over  the 
house  of  Jacob  for  ever ; "  while  in  the  last  august  title 
now  given  by  the  angel,  "  Lord,"  we  may  recognize  the 
higher  Divinity — that  He  is,  in  some  unique,  and  to  us 
incomprehensible  sense,  "the  Son  of  the  Most  High" 
(i.  32).  Such,  then,  is  the  triple  crown  the  angel  now 
bears  to  the  cradle  of  the  Holy  Child.  What  He  will 
be  to  the  world  is  still  but  a  prophecy ;  but  as  He,  the 
Firstborn,  is  now  brought  into  the  world,  God  commands 
all  the  angels  to  worship  Him  (Heb.  i.  6) ;  and  with 
united  voice — though  the  antiphon  sings  back  over  a 
nine  months'  silence — they  salute  the  Child  of  Bethlehem 
as  Saviour,  Messiah,  Lord.  The  one  title  sets  up  His 
throne  facing  the  lower  world,  commanding  the  powers 
of  darkness,  and  looking  at  the  moral  conditions  of  men; 
the  second  throws  the  shadow  of  His  throne  over  the 
political  relations  of  men,  making  it  dominate  all  thrones; 
while  the  third   title   sets  up   His   throne  facing  the 


118-21.]     THE  ADORATION  OF  THE  SHEPHERDS,         71 

heavens  themselves,   vesting  Him  with  a  supreme,  a 
Divine  authority. 

No  sooner  was  the  message  ended  than  suddenly 
there  was  with  the  angel  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly 
host,  praismg  God  and  saying — 

"Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 
And  on  earth  peace  among  men  in  whom  He  is  well  pleased." 

The  Revised  Version  lacks  the  rhythmic  qualities  of 
the  Authorized  Version ;  and  the  wordy  clause  "  among 
men  in  whom  He  is  well  pleased  "  seems  but  a  poor 
substitute  for  the  terse  and  clear  "good-will  toward 
men,"  which  is  an  expression  easy  of  utterance,  and 
which  seemed  to  have  earned  a  prescriptive  right  to  a 
place  in  our  Advent  music.  The  revised  rendering, 
however,  is  certainly  more  in  accord  with  the  gram- 
matical construction  of  the  original,  whose  idiomatic 
form  can  scarcely  be  put  into  English,  except  in  a  way 
somewhat  circuitous  and  involved.  In  both  expressions 
the  underlying  thought  is  the  same,  representing  man 
as  the  object  of  the  Divine  good-pleasure,  that  Divine 
"benevolence" — using  the  word  in  its  etymological 
sense — which  enfolds,  in  the  germ,  the  Divine  favour, 
compassion,  mercy,  and  love.  There  is  thus  a  triple 
parallelism  running  through  the  song,  the  "Glory  to 
God  in  the  highest "  finding  its  corresponding  terms  in 
the  "peace  among  (or  to)  men  in  whom  He  is  well 
pleased  on  earth ; "  while  altogether  it  forms  one  com- 
plete circle  of  praise,  the  "  good-pleasure  to  man,"  the 
"peace  on  earth,"  the  "glory  to  God"  marking  off  its 
three  segments.  And  so  the  song  harmonizes  with  the 
message ;  indeed,  it  is  that  message  in  an  altered  shape ; 
no  longer  walking  in  common  prosaic  ways,  but  winged 
now,  it  moves  in  its  higher  circles  with  measured  beat. 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


leaving  a  path  from  the  cradle  of  the  Infancy  to  the 
highest  heavens  all  strewn  with  Glorias.  And  what  is 
the  triplicity  of  the  song  but  another  rendering  of  the 
three  august  titles  of  the  message — Saviour,  Messiah, 
Lord  ?  the  "  Saviour"  being  the  expression  of  the  Divine 
good-pleasure ;  the  '^  Messiah  "  teUing  of  His  reign  upon 
earth  who  is  Himself  the  Prince  of  peace;  while  the 
"  Lord,"  which,  as  we  have  seen,  corresponds  with 
"  the  Son  of  the  Most  High,"  leads  us  up  directly  to 
the  ^^heavenlies,"  to  Him  who  commands  and  who 
deserves  all  doxologies. 

But  is  this  song  only  a  song  in  some  far-distant  sky — 
a  sweet  memory  indeed,  but  no  experience?  Is  it  not 
rather  the  original  from  which  copies  may  be  struck  for 
our  individual  lives  ?  There  is  for  each  of  us  an  advent, 
if  we  will  accept  it ;  for  what  is  regeneration  but  the 
beginning  of  the  Divine  life  within  our  life,  the  advent 
of  the  Christ  Himself?  And  let  but  that  supieme  hour 
come  to  us  when  place  and  room  are  made  for  Him 
who  is  at  once  the  expression  of  the  Divine  favour  and 
the  incarnation  of  the  Divine  love,  and  the  new  era 
dawns,  the  reign  of  peace,  the  "  peace  of  God,"  because 
the  "  peace  with  God,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 
Then  will  the  heart  throw  off  its  Glorias,  not  in  one 
burst  of  song,  which  subsides  quickly  into  silence,  but 
in  one  perpetual  anthem,  which  ever  becomes  more  loud 
and  sweet  as  the  day  of  its  perfected  redemption  draweth 
nigh ;  for  when  the  Divine  displeasure  is  turned  away, 
and  a  Divine  peace  or  comfort  takes  its  place,  who  can 
but  say,  "  O  Lord,  I  will  praise  Thee  '*  ? 

Directly  the  angel-song  had  ceased,  and  the  singers 
had  disappeared  in  the  deep  silence  whence  they  came, 
the  shepherds,  gathering  up  their  scattered  thoughts, 
said  one  to  another  (as  if  their  hearts  were  speaking  all 


U.8-ai.]     THE  ADORATION  OF  THE  SHEPHERDS.         73 

at  once  and  all  in  unison),  "Let  us  now  go  even  unto 
Bethlehem,  and  see  this  thing  that  is  come  to  pass 
which  the  Lord  hath  made  known  unto  us."  The 
response  was  immediate.  They  do  not  shut  out  this 
heavenly  truth  by  doubt  and  vain  questioning;  they 
do  not  keep  it  at  a  distance  from  them,  as  if  it  only 
indirectly  and  distantly  concerned  themselves,  but  yield 
themselves  up  to  it  entirely ;  and  as  they  go  hastily  to 
Bethlehem,  in  the  quick  step  and  in  the  rapid  beating 
of  their  heart,  we  can  trace  the  vibrations  of  the  angel- 
song.  And  why  is  this  ?  Why  is  it  that  the  message 
does  not  come  upon  them  as  a  surprise?  Why  are 
these  men  ready  with  such  a  perfect  acq'^iescence, 
their  hearts  leaping  forward  to  meet  and  embrace  this 
Gospel  of  the  angels  ?  We  shall  probably  find  our 
answer  in  the  character  of  the  men  themselves.  They 
pass  into  history  unnamed ;  and  after  playing  their 
brief  part,  they  disappear,  lost  in  the  incense-cloud  of 
their  own  praises.  But  evidently  these  shepherds  were 
no  mean,  no  common  men.  They  were  Hebrews,  pos- 
sibly of  the  royal  line ;  at  any  rate  they  were  Davids 
in  their  loftiness  of  thought,  of  hope  and  aspiration. 
They  were  devout,  God-fearing  men.  Like  their  father 
Jacob,  they  too  were  citizens  of  two  worlds ;  they 
could  lead  their  flocks  into  green  pastures,  and  mend 
the  fold  ;  or  they  could  turn  aside  from  flock  and  fold 
to  wrestle  with  God's  angels,  and  prevail.  Heaven's 
revelations  come  to  noble  minds,  as  the  loftiest  peaks 
are  always  the  first  to  hail  the  dawn.  And  can  we 
suppose  that  Heaven  would  so  honour  them,  lighting 
up  the  sky  with  an  aureole  of  glory  for  their  sole 
benefit,  sending  this  multitude  to  sing  to  them  a  sweet 
chorale,  if  the  men  themselves  had  nothing  heavenly 
about  them,  if  their  selfish,  sordid  mind  could  soar  no 


74  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE. 

higher  than  their  flocks,  and  have  no  wider  range  than 
the  markets  for  their  wool  ? 

"  Let  but  a  flute 
Play  'neath  the  fine-mixed  metal ; 
Then  shall  the  huge  bell  tremble,  then  the  mass 
"With  myriad  waves  concurrent  shall  respond 
In  low,  soft  unison." 

But  there  must  be  the  music  hidden  within,  or  there 
is  no  unison.  And  we  may  be  sure  of  this,  that  the 
angel-song  had  passed  by  them  as  a  cold  night-wind, 
had  not  their  hearts  been  tuned  up  by  intense  desire, 
until  they  struck  responsive  to  the  angel-voice.  Though 
they  knew  it  not,  they  had  led  their  flock  to  the  mount 
of  God ;  and  up  the  steps  of  sacred  hopes  and  lofty 
aspirations  they  had  climbed,  until  their  lives  had  got 
within  the  circle  of  heavenly  harmonies,  and  they  were 
worthy  to  be  the  first  apostles  of  the  New  Dispensa- 
tion. 

In  our  earthly  modes  of  thinking  we  push  the  sacred 
and  the  secular  far  apart,  as  if  they  were  two  different 
worlds,  or,  at  any  rate,  as  opposite  hemispheres  of  the 
same  world,  with  but  few  points  of  contact  between 
them.  It  is  not  so.  The  secular  is  the  sacred  on  its 
under,  its  earthward  side.  It  is  a  part  of  that  great 
whole  we  call  duty,  and  in  our  earthly  callings,  if  they 
are  but  pure  and  honest,  we  may  hear  the  echoes  of  a 
heavenly  call.  The  temple  of  Worship  and  the  temple 
of  Work  are  not  separated  by  indefinable  spaces ;  they 
are  contiguous,  leaning  upon  each  other,  while  they 
both  front  the  same  Divine  purpose.  Nor  can  it  be 
simply  a  coincidence  that  Heaven's  revelations  should 
nearly  always  come  to  man  in  the  moments  of  earthly 
toil,  rather  than  in  the  hours  of  leisure  or  of  so-called 
worship.     It  was  from   his   shepherding  the  burning 


U.8-21.]     THE  ADORATION  OF   THE  SHEPHERDS.  75 

bush  beckoned  Moses  aside ;  while  Heaven's  messenger 
found  Gideon  on  the  threshing-floor,  and  Elisha  in  the 
furrow.  In  the  New  Testament,  too,  in  all  the  cases 
whose  circumstances  are  recorded,  the  Divine  call 
reached  the  disciples  when  engaged  in  their  eveiy-day 
task,  sitting  at  the  receipt  of  custom,  and  casting  or 
mending  their  nets.  The  fact  is  significant  In  the 
estimate  of  Heaven,  instead  of  a  discount  being  put  upon 
the  common  tasks  of  life,  those  tasks  are  dignified  and 
ennobled.  They  look  towards  heaven,  and  if  the  heart 
be  only  set  in  that  direction  they  lead  too  up  towards 
heaven.  Our  weeks  are  not  unlike  the  sheet  of  Peter's 
vision ;  we  take  care  to  tie  up  the  two  ends,  attaching 
them  to  heaven,  and  then  we  leave  what  we  call  the 
"  week-days  "  bulging  down  earthward  in  purely  secular 
fashion.  But  would  not  our  weeks,  and  our  whole  life, 
swing  on  a  higher  and  holier  level,  could  we  but  recog- 
nize the  fact  that  all  days  are  the  Lord's  days,  and 
did  we  but  attach  each  day  and  each  deed  to  heaven  ? 
Such  is  the  truest,  noblest  life,  that  takes  the  **  trivial 
rounds  "  as  a  part  of  its  sacred  duties,  doing  them  all 
as  unto  the  Lord.  So,  as  we  sanctify  Hfe's  common 
things,  they  cease  to  be  common,  and  the  earthly 
becomes  less  earthly  as  we  learn  to  see  more  of  heaven 
in  it  In  the  weaving  of  our  life  some  of  its  tnreads 
stretch  earthward,  and  some  heavenward ;  but  they 
cross  and  interlace,  and  together  they  form  the  warp 
and  woof  of  one  fabric,  which  -should  be,  like  the  gar- 
ment of  the  Master,  without  seam,  woven  from  the  top 
throughout  Happy  is  that  life  which,  keeping  an  open 
eye  over  the  flock,  keeps  too  a  heart  open  towards 
heaven,  ready  to  listen  to  the  angelic  music,  and  ready 
to  transfer  its  rhythm  to  their  own  hastening  feet  or 
their  praising  lips. 


/ 

/ 

/ 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE 


Our  Evangelist  tells  us  that  they  "  came  in  haste  *' 
m  search  of  the  young  Child,  and  we  may  almost  detect 
that  haste  in  the  very  accents  of  their  speech.  It  is, 
**  Let  us  now  go  across  even  to  Bethlehem,"  allowing 
the  prefix  its  proper  meaning ;  as  if  their  eager  hearts 
could  not  stay  to  go  round  by  the  ordinary  road,  but 
like  bees  scenting  a  field  of  clover,  they  too  must  make 
their  cross-country  way  to  Bethlehem.  Though  the 
angel  had  not  given  explicit  directions,  the  city  of 
David  was  not  so  large  but  that  they  could  easily  dis- 
cover the  object  of  their  search — the  Child,  as  had  been 
told  them,  wrapped  in  swaddling  clothes  and  lying  in 
a  manager.  It  has  been  thought  by  some  that  the 
"inn"  is  a  mistranslation,  and  that  it  really  was  the 
"guest-chamber "of  some  friend.  It  is  true  the  word 
is  rendered  "  guest-chamber  "  on  the  other  two  occasions 
of  its  use  (Mark  xiv.  14;  Luke  xxii.  ii),  but  it  also 
signified  a  public  guest-house,  as  well  as  a  private 
guest-chamber ;  and  such  evidently  is  its  meaning  here, 
for  private  hospitality,  even  had  its  "  guest-chamber " 
been  preoccupied,  would  certainly,  under  the  circum- 
stances, have  offered  something  more  human  than  a 
stable.     That  would  not  have  been  its  only  alternative. 

It  is  an  interesting  coincidence,  and  one  serving  to 
link  together  the  Old  and  the  New  Testament,  that 
Jeremiah  speaks  of  a  certain  geruth,  or  inn,  as  it  may 
read,  "  which  is  by  Beth-lehem  "  (Jer.  xli.  17).  How 
it  came  into  the  possession  of  Chimham,  who  was  a 
Gileadite,  we  are  not  told ;  but  we  are  told  that  be- 
cause of  the  kindness  shown  to  David  in  his  exile  by 
Barzillai,  his  son  Chimham  received  special  marks  of 
the  royal  favour,  and  was,  in  fact,  treated  almost  as  an 
adopted  son  (i  Kings  il  7).  What  is  certain  is  that 
the  khan  of  Bethlehem  bore,   for  successive  genera- 


U.8-ai.]     THE  ADORATION  OF  THE  SHEPHERDS.         77 

tions,  the  name  of  Chimham;  which  fact  is  in  itself 
evidence  that  Chimham  was  its  builder,  as  the  well  of 
Jacob  retained,  through  all  the  changes  of  inheritance, 
the  name  of  the  patriarch  whose  thought  and  gift  it 
Ivas.  In  all  probability,  therefore,  the  "  inn  "  was  built 
oy  Chimham,  on  that  part  of  the  paternal  estate  which 
David  inherited ;  and  as  the  khans  of  the  East  cling 
with  remarkable  tenacity  to  their  original  sites,  it  is 
probable,  to  say  the  least,  that  the  "  inn  of  Chimham  " 
and  the  inn  of  Bethlehem,  in  which  there  was  no  room 
for  the  two  late-comers  from  Nazareth,  were,  if  not 
identical,  at  any  rate  related  structures — so  strangely 
does  the  cycle  of  history  complete  itself,  and  the  Old 
merge  into  the  New.  And  so,  while  Prophecy  sings 
audibly  and  sweetly  of  the  place  which  yet  shall  give 
birth  to  the  Governor  who  shall  rule  over  Israel, 
History  puts  up  her  silent  hand,  and  salutes  Beth-lehem 
Ephratah  as  by  no  means  the  least  among  the  cities  of 
Judah. 

But  not  in  the  inn  do  the  shepherds  find  the  happy 
parents — the  spring-tide  of  the  unusual  immigration 
had  completely  flooded  that,  leaving  no  standing-place 
for  the  son  and  daughter  of  David — but  they  find 
them  in  a  stable,  probably  in  some  adjoining  cave, 
the  swaddled  Child,  as  the  angels  had  foretold,  lying 
in  the  manger.  Art  has  lingered  reverently  and  long 
over  this  stable  scene,  hiding  with  exquisite  draperies 
its  baldness  and  meanness,  and  lighting  up  its  darkness 
with  wreaths  of  golden  glory;  but  these  splendours 
are  apocryphal,  existing  only  in  the  mind  of  the  be- 
holder; they  are  the  luminous  mist  of  an  adoring 
love.  What  the  shepherds  do  find  is  an  extemporized 
apartment,  mean  in  the  extreme ;  two  strangers  fresh 
from   Nazareth,  both  young  and   both  poor;  and  a 


78  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

new-bom  infant  asleep  in  the  manger,  with  a  group 
of  sympathizing  spectators,  who  have  brought,  in  the 
emergency,  all  kinds  of  proffered  helps.  It  seems  a 
strange  ending  for  an  angel-song,  a  far  drop  from  the 
superhuman  to  the  subhuman.  Will  it  shake  the  faith 
of  these  apostle-shepherds  ?  Will  it  shatter  their 
bright  hope  ?  And  chagrined  that  their  auroral  dream 
should  have  so  poor  a  realization,  will  they  return  to 
their  flocks  with  heavy  hearts  and  sad  ?  Not  they. 
They  prostrate  themselves  before  the  Infant  Presence, 
repeating  over  and  over  the  heavenly  words  the  angels 
had  spoken  unto  them  concerning  the  Child,  and  while 
Mary  announces  the  name  as  "Jesus,"  they  salute 
Him,  as  the  angels  had  greeted  Him  before,  as  Saviour, 
Messiah,  Lord ;  thus  putting  on  the  head  of  the  Child 
Jesus  that  triple  crown,  symbol  of  a  supremacy  which 
knows  no  limit  either  in  space  or  time.  It  was  the 
Te  Deum  of  a  redeemed  humanity,  which  succeeding 
years  have  only  made  more  deep,  more  full,  and  which 
in  ever-rising  tones  will  yet  grow  into  the  Alleluias 
of  the  heavens.  Saviour,  Messiah,  Lord  I  these  titles 
struck  upon  Mary's  ear  not  with  surprise,  for  she  has 
grown  accustomed  to  surprises  now,  but  with  a  thrill 
of  wonder.  She  could  not  yet  spell  out  all  their 
deep  meaning,  and  so  she  pondered  "them  in  her 
heart,"  hiding  them  away  in  her  maternal  soul,  that 
their  deep  secrets  might  ripen  and  blossom  in  the 
summer  of  the  after-years. 

The  shepherds  appear  no  more  in  the  Gospel  story. 
We  see  them  returning  to  their  task  *' glorifying  and 
praising  God  for  all  the  things  that  they  had  heard 
and  seen,"  and  then  the  mantle  of  a  deep  silence  falls 
upon  them.  As  a  lark,  rising  heavenward,*  loses  itself 
from  our  sight,  becoming  a  sweet  song  in  the  sky,  so 


U  8-ai.]    THE  ADORATION  OF  THE  SHEPHERDS.         79 

these  anonymous  shepherds,  these  first  disciples  of 
the  Lord,  having  laid  their  tribute  at  His  feet — in  the 
name  of  humanity  saluting  the  Christ  who  was  to 
be — now  pass  out  of  our  sight,  leaving  for  us  the 
example  of  their  heavenward  look  and  their  simple 
faith,  and  leaving,  too,  their  Glorias^  which  in  multi- 
plied reverberations  fill  all  lands  and  all  times,  the 
earthly  prelude  of  the  New,  the  eteroal  Song. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  VOICE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 

WHEN  the  Old  Testament  closed,  prophecy  had 
thrown  upon  the  screen  of  the  future  the 
shadows  of  two  persons,  cast  in  heavenly  light. 
Sketched  in  outline  rather  than  in  detail,  still  their 
personalities  were  sufficiently  distinct  as  to  attract  the 
gaze  and  hopes  of  the  intervening  centuries;  while 
their  differing,  though  related  missions  were  clearly 
recognized.  One  was  the  Coming  One,  who  should 
bring  the  "consolation"  of  Israel,  and  who  should 
Himself  be  that  Consolation;  and  gathering  into  one 
august  title  all  such  glittering  epithets  as  Star,  Shiloh, 
and  Emmanuel,  prophecy  reverently  saluted  Him  as 
"the  Lord,"  paying  Him  prospective  homage  and 
adoration.  The  other  was  to  be  the  herald  of  another 
Dispensation,  proclaiming  the  new  kingdom  and  the 
new  King,  running  before  the  royal  chariot,  even  as 
Elijah  ran  before  Ahab  to  the  ivory  palace  at  Jezreel, 
his  voice  then  dying  away  in  silence,  as  he  himself 
passes  out  of  sight  behind  the  throne.  Such  were 
the  two  figures  that  prophecy,  in  a  series  of  dissolving 
views,  had  thrown  forward  from  the  Old  into  the  New 
Testament ;  and  such  was  the  signal  honour  accorded 
to  the  Baptist,  that  while  many  of  the  Old  Testament 
*!haracters  appear  as  reflections  in   the   New,  his  is 


THE   VOICE  IN  THE   WILDERNESS.  8i 

the  only  human  shadow  thrown  back  from  the  New 
into  the  Old. 

The  forerunner  thus  had  a  virtual  existence  long 
before  the  time  of  the  Advent.  Known  by  his 
synonym  of  Elias,  the  prophesied,  he  became  as  a  real 
presence,  moving  here  and  there  among  their  thoughts 
and  dreams,  and  lighting  up  their  long  night  with 
the  beacon-fires  of  new  and  bright  hopes.  His  voice 
seemed  familiar,  even  though  it  came  to  them  in  far- 
distant  echoes,  and  the  listening  centuries  had  caught 
exactly  both  its  accent  and  its  message.  And  so  the 
preparer  of  the  way  found  his  own  path  prepared; 
for  John's  path  and  "  the  way  of  the  Lord  "  were  the 
same;  it  was  the  way  of  obedience  and  of  sacrifice. 
The  two  lives  were  thus  thrown  into  conjunction  from 
the  first,  the  lesser  light  revolving  around  the  Greater, 
as  they  fulfil  their  separate  courses — separate  indeed, 
as  far  as  the  human  must  ever  be  separated  from  the 
Divine,  yet  most  closely  related. 

Living  thus  through  the  pre- Ad  vent  centuries,  both 
in  the  Divine  purpose  and  in  the  thoughts  and  hopes 
of  men,  so  early  designated  to  his  heraldic  office, 
"  My  messenger,"  in  a  singular  sense,  as  no  other  of 
mortals  could  ever  be,  it  is  no  matter  of  apology,  or 
even  of  surprise,  that  his  birth  should  be  attended  by 
so  much  of  the  supernatural.  The  Divine  designation 
seems  to  imply,  almost  to  demand,  a  Divine  declaration  ; 
and  in  the  birth-story  of  the  Baptist  the  flashes  of  the 
supernatural,  such  as  the  angelic  announcement  and 
the  miraculous  conception,  come  with  a  simple  natural- 
ness. The  prelude  is  in  perfect  symphony  with  the 
song.  St.  Luke  is  the  only  Evangelist  v/ho  gives  us 
the  birth-story.  The  other  three  speak  only  of  his 
mission,    introducing    him    to    us    abruptly,    as,    like 

6 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


another  Moses,  he  comes  down  from  his  new  Sinai 
with  the  tables  of  the  law  in  his  hands  and  the  strange 
light  upon  his  face.  St.  Luke  takes  us  back  to  the 
infancy,  that  we  may  see  the  beginnings  of  things, 
the  Divine  purpose  enwrapped  in  swaddUng  clothes, 
as  it  once  was  set  adrift  in  a  rush-plaited  ark.  Back 
of  the  message  he  puts  the  man,  and  back  of  the  man 
he  puts  the  child — for  is  not  the  child  a  prophecy  or 
invoice  of  the  man  ? — while  all  around  the  child  he  puts 
the  environment  of  home,  showing  us  the  subtle,  power- 
ful influences  that  touched  and  shaped  the  young 
prophet-life.  As  a  plant  carries  up  into  its  outmost 
leaves  the  ingredients  of  the  rock  around  which  its 
fibres  cling,  so  each  upspringing  life — even  the  life  of 
a  prophet — carries  into  its  farthest  reaches  the  un- 
conscious influence  of  its  home  associations.  And  so 
St.  Luke  sketches  for  us  that  quiet  home  in  the  hill- 
country,  whose  windows  opened  and  whose  doors 
turned  toward  Jerusalem,  the  *'  city  of  the  great "  and 
invisible  "  King."  He  shows  us  Zacharias  and  Elisa- 
beth, true  saints  of  God,  devout  of  heart  and  blameless 
of  life,  down  into  whose  placid  lives  an  angel  came, 
rippling  them  with  the  excitements  of  new  promises 
and  hopes.  Where  could  the  first  meridian  of  the  New 
Dispensation  run  better  than  through  the  home  of 
these  seers  of  things  unseen,  these  watchers  for  the 
dawn  ?  Where  could  be  so  fitting  a  receptacle  for  the 
Divine  purpose,  where  it  could  so  soon  and  so  well 
ripen  ?  Had  not  God  elected  them  to  this  high  honour, 
and  Himself  prepared  them  for  it?  Had  He  not 
purposely  kept  back  all  earlier,  lower  shoots,  that  their 
whole  growth  should  be  upward,  one  reaching  out 
towards  heaven,  like  the  palm,  its  fruit  clustering 
around  its  outmost  branches  ?     We  can  easily  imagine 


THE    VOICE  IN   THE    WILDERNESS,  83 

what  intense  emotion  the  message  of  the  angel  would 
produce,  and  that  Zacharias  would  not  so  much  miss 
the  intercourse  of  human  speech  now  that  God's 
thoughts  were  audible  in  his  soul.  What  loving  pre- 
paration would  Elisabeth  make  for  this  child  of  hert, 
who  was  to  be  "great  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord"! 
what  music  she  would  strike  out  from  its  name, 
'*  John  "  (the  Grace  of  Jehovah),  the  name  which  was 
both  the  sesame  and  symbol  of  the  New  Dispensation  I 
How  her  eager  heart  would  outrun  the  slow  months, 
as  she  threw  herself  forward  in  anticipation  among  the 
joys  of  maternity,  a  motherhood  so  exalted  I  And  why 
did  she  hide  herself  for  the  five  months,  but  that  she 
might  prepare  herself  for  her  great  mission  ?  that  in 
her  seclusion  she  might  hear  more  distinctly  the  voices 
that  spake  to  her  from  above,  or  that  in  the  silence 
she  might  hear  her  own  heart  sing? 

But  neither  the  eagerness  of  Elisabeth  nor  the  dumb- 
ness of  Zacharias  is  allowed  to  hasten  the  Divine 
purpose.  That  purpose,  like  the  cloud  of  old,  accommo- 
dates itself  to  human  conditions,  the  slow  processions 
of  the  humanities;  and  not  until  the  time  is  "full" 
does  the  hope  become  a  realization,  and  the  infant 
voice  utter  its  first  cry.  And  now  is  gathered  the  rst 
congregation  of  the  new  era.  It  is  but  a  family  gather- 
ing, as  the  neighbours  and  relatives  come  together  for 
the  circumcising  of  the  child — which  rite  was  always 
performed  on  the  corresponding  day  of  the  week  after 
its  birth  ;  but  it  is  significant  as  being  the  first  of  those 
ever- widening  circles  that  moving  outwards  from  its 
central  impulse,  spread  rapidly  over  the  land,  as  they 
are  now  rapidly  spreading  over  all  lands.  Zacharias, 
of  course,  was  present;  but  mute  and  deaf,  he  could 
only  sit  apart,  a  silent  spectator.     Elisabeth,  as  we  may 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 


gather  from  various  references  and  hints,  was  of  modest 
and  retiring  disposition,  fond  of  putting  herself  in  the 
shade,  of  standing  behind ;  and  so  now  the  conduct  of 
the  ceremony  seems  to  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
some  of  the  relatives.  Presuming  that  the  general 
custom  will  be  observed,  that  the  first-born  child  will 
take  the  name  of  the  father,  they  proceed  to  name  it 
**  Zacharias."  This,  however,  Elisab'eth  cannot  allow, 
and  with  an  emphatic  negative,  she  says,  "  Not  so ;  but 
he  shall  be  called  John."  Persistent  still  in  their  own 
course,  and  not  satisfied  with  the  mother's  affirmation, 
the  friends  turn  to  the  aged  and  mute  priest,  and  by 
signs  ask  how  they  shall  name  the  child  (and  had 
Zacharias  heard  the  conversation,  he  certainly  would 
not  have  waited  for  their  question,  but  would  have 
spoken  or  written  at  once) ;  and  Zacharias,  calling  for 
the  writing-table,  which  doubtless  had  been  his  close 
companion,  giving  him  his  only  touch  of  the  outer 
world  for  the  still  nine  months,  wrote,  "  His  name  is 
John."  Ah,  they  are  too  late  I  the  child  was  named  even 
long  before  its  birth,  named,  too,  within  the  Holy  Place 
of  the  Temple,  and  by  an  angel  of  God.  "John "  and 
"  Jesus,"  those  two  names,  since  the  visit  of  the  Virgin, 
have  been  like  two  bells  of  gold,  throwing  waves  of 
music  across  heart  and  home,  ringing  their  welcome  to 
"  the  Christ  who  is  to  be,"  the  Christ  who  is  now  so 
near.  "  His  name  is  John ; "  and  with  that  brief  stroke 
of  his  pen  Zacharias  half  rebukes  these  intrusions  and 
interferences  of  the  relatives,  and  at  the  same  time 
makes  avowal  of  his  own  faith.  And  as  he  wrote  the 
name  "  John,"  his  present  obedience  making  atonement 
for  a  past  unbelief,  instantly  the  paralyzed  tongue  was 
loosed,  and  he  spake,  blessing  God,  throwing  the  name 
of  his  child  into  a  psalm ;  for  what  is  the  Benedictus  of 


THE   VOICE  IN  THE   WILDERNESS, 


Zacharias  but  "  John  "  written  large  and  full,  one  sweet 
and  loud  magnifying  of  "the  Grace  and  Favour  of 
Jehovah"? 

It  is  only  a  natural  supposition  that  when  the  inspi- 
ration of  the  song  had  passed  away,  Zacharias'  speech 
would  begin  just  where  it  was  broken  ofif,  and  that  he 
would  narrate  to  the  guests  the  strange  vision  of  the 
Temple,  with  the  angel's  prophecy  concerning  the  child. 
And  as  the  guests  depart  to  their  own  homes,  each  one 
carries  the  story  of  this  new  Apocalypse,  as  he  goes  to 
spread  the  evangel,  and  to  wake  among  the  neighbour- 
ing hills  the  echoes  of  Zacharias'  song.  No  wonder  that 
fear  came  upon  all  that  dwelt  round  about,  and  that 
they  who  pondered  these  things  in  their  hearts  should 
ask,  "What  then  shall  this  child  be?" 

And  here  the  narrative  of  the  childhood  suddenly 
ends,  for  with  two  brief  sentences  our  Evangelist  dis- 
misses the  thirty  succeeding  years.  He  tells  us  that 
"  the  hand  of  the  Lord  was  with  the  child,"  doubtless 
arranging  its  circumstances,  giving  it  opportunities, 
preparing  it  for  the  rugged  manhood  and  the  rugged 
mission  which  should  follow  in  due  course;  and  that 
"  the  child  grew,  and  waxed  strong  in  spirit,"  the  very 
same  expression  he  afterwards  uses  in  reference  to  the 
Holy  Child,  an  expression  we  can  best  interpret  by  the 
angel's  prophecy,  "  He  shall  be  filled  with  the  Holy 
Ghost  even  from  his  mother's  womb."  His  native 
strength  of  spirit  was  made  doubly  strong  by  the  touch 
of  the  Divine  Spirit,  as  the  iron,  coming  from  its 
baptism  of  fire,  is  hardened  and  tempered  into  steel. 
And  so  we  see  that  in  the  Divine  economy  even  a  con- 
secrated childhood  is  a  possible  experience ;  and  that  it  is 
comparatively  infrequent  is  owing  rather  to  our  warped 
view*,  which  possibly  may  need   some   readjustment, 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 


than  to  the  Divine  purpose  and  provision.  Is  the  child 
born  into  the  Divine  displeasure,  branded  from  its  birth 
with  the  mark  of  Cain  ?  Is  it  not  rather  born  into 
the  Divine  mercy,  and  all  en  swathed  in  the  abundance 
of  Divine  love  ?  True,  it  is  bom  of  a  sinful  race,  with 
tendencies  to  self-will  which  may  lead  it  astray ;  but  it 
\s  just  as  true  that  it  is  born  within  the  covenant  of 
grace ;  that  around  its  earliest  and  most  helpless  years  is 
thrown  the  aegis  of  Christ's  atonement ;  and  that  these 
innate  tendencies  are  held  in  check  and  neutralized  by 
what  is  called  "  prevenient  grace."  In  the  struggle  for 
that  child-life  are  the  powers  of  darkness  the  first  in 
the  field,  outmarching  and  out-manoeuvring  the  powers 
of  light?  Why,  the  very  thought  is  half-libellous. 
Heaven's  touch  is  upon  the  child  from  the  first.  Ignore 
it  as  we  may,  deny  it  as  some  will,  yet  back  in  life's 
earliest  dawn  the  Divine  Spirit  is  brooding  over  the 
unformed  world,  parting  its  firmaments  of  right  and 
wrong,  and  fashioning  a  new  Paradise.  Is  evil  the 
inevitable?  Must  each  life  taste  the  forbidden  fruit 
before  it  can  attain  to  a  knowledge  of  the  good  ?  In 
other  words,  is  sin  a  great  though  dire  necessity  ?  If 
a  necessity,  then  it  is  no  longer  sin,  and  we  must  seek 
for  another  and  more  appropriate  name.  No ;  childhood 
is  Christ's  purchased  and  peculiar  possession ;  and  the 
best  type  of  religious  experience  is  that  which  is  marked 
by  no  rapid  transitions,  which  breaks  upon  the  soul 
softly  and  sweetly  as  a  dawn,  its  beginnings  impercep- 
tible, and  so  unremembered.  So  not  without  meaning 
is  it  that  right  at  the  gate  of  the  New  Dispensation  we 
find  the  cradle  of  a  consecrated  childhood.  Placed 
there  by  the  gate,  so  that  all  may  see  it,  and  placed  in 
the  light,  so  that  all  may  read  it,  the  childhood  of  the 
Baptist  tells  us  what  our  childhood  might  oftener  be. 


THE   VOICE  IN  THE   WILDERNESS.  87 

if  only  its  earthly  guardians — whose  hands  are  so 
powerful  to  impress  and  mould  the  plastic  soul — were, 
like  Zacharias  and  Elisabeth,  themselves  prayerful, 
blameless,  and  devout. 

Now  the  scene  shifts ;  for  we  read  he  "  was  in  the 
deserts  till  the  day  of  his  showing  unto  Israel."  From 
the  fact  that  this  clause  is  intimately  connected  with 
the  preceding,  *'  and  the  child  grew  and  waxed  strong 
in  spirit" — the  two  clauses  having  but  one  subject- - 
some  have  supposed  that  John  was  but  a  child  when  he 
turned  away  from  the  parental  roof  and  sought  the 
wilderness.  But  this  does  not  follow.  The  two  parts 
of  the  sentence  are  only  separated  by  a  comma,  but 
that  pause  may  bridge  over  a  chasm  wide  enough  for 
the  flow  of  numerous  years,  and  between  the  child- 
hood and  the  wilderness  the  narrative  would  almost 
compel  us  to  put  a  considerable  space.  As  his  physical 
development  was,  in  mode  and  proportiori,  purely 
human,  with  no  hint  of  anything  unnatural  or  even 
supernatural,  so  we  may  suppose  was  his  mental 
and  spiritual  development.  The  voice  must  become 
articulate;  it  must  play  upon  the  alphabet,  and  turn 
sound  into  speech.  It  must  learn,  that  it  may  think  ; 
it  must  study,  that  it  may  know.  And  so  the  human 
teacher  is  indispensable.  Children  reared  of  wolves 
may  learn  to  bark,  but,  in  spite  of  mythology,  they  will 
not  build  cities  and  found  empires.  And  where  could 
the  child  find  better  instructors  than  in  his  own  parents, 
whose  quiet  lives  had  been  passed  in  an  atmosphere  of 
prayer,  and  to  whom  the  very  jots  and  tittles  of  the  law 
were  familiar  and  dear?  Indeed,  we  can  scarcely  sup- 
pose that  after  having  prepared  Zacharias  and  Elisabeth 
for  their  great  mission,  working  what  is  something  like 
a  miracle,  that  she  and  no  one  else  shall  be  the  mother 


83  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

of  the  forerunner,  the  child  should  then  be  torn  away 
from  its  natural  guardians  before  the  processes  of  its 
education  are  complete.  It  is  true  they  were  both 
"  well  stricken  in  years,"  but  that  phrase  would  cover 
any  period  from  threescore  years  and  upwards,  and  to 
that  threescore  the  usual  longevity  of  the  Temple  minis- 
trants  would  easily  allow  another  twenty  years  to  be 
added.  May  we  not,  then,  suppose  that  the  child-Baptist 
studied  and  played  under  the  parental  roof,  the  bright 
focus  to  which  their  hopes,  and  thoughts,  and  prayers 
converged ;  that  here,  too,  he  spent  his  boyhood  and 
youth,  preparing  for  that  priestly  office  to  which  his 
lineage  entitled  and  designated  him  ?  for  why  should 
not  the  "messenger  of  the  Lord"  be  priest  as  well? 
We  have  no  further  mention  of  Zacharias  and  Elisa- 
beth, but  it  is  not  improbable  that  their  death  was  the 
occasion  of  John's  retirement  to  the  deserts,  now  a 
young  man,  perhaps,  of  twenty  years. 

According  to  custom,  John  now  should  have  been 
introduced  and  consecrated  to  the  priesthood,  twenty 
years  being  the  general  age  of  the  initiates ;  but  in 
obedience  to  a  higher  call,  John  renounces  the  priest- 
hood, and  breaks  with  the  Temple  at  once  and  for 
ever.  Retiring  to  the  deserts,  which,  wild  and  gloomy, 
stretch  westward  from  the  Dead  Sea,  and  assuming  the 
old  prophet  garb — a  loose  dress  of  camel's  hair,  bound 
with  a  thong  of  leather — the  student  becomes  the  recluse. 
Inhabiting  some  mountain  cave,  tasting  only  the  coarse 
fare  that  nature  offered — locusts  and  wild  honey — the 
new  Elias  has  come  and  has  found  his  Cherith  ;  and 
here,  withdrawn  far  from  *^  the  madding  crowd "  and 
the  incessant  babble  of  human  talk,  with  no  companions 
save  the  wild  beasts  and  the  bright  constellations  ol 
that  Syrian  sky,  as  they  wheel  round  in  their  nightly 


THE   VOICE  IN   THE   WILDERNESS. 


dance,  the  lonely  man  opens  his  heart  to  God's  great 
thoughts  and  purposes,  and  by  constant  prayer  keeps 
his  clear,  trumpet  voice  in  drill.  Evidently,  John  had 
seen  enough  of  so-called  '^  society,"  with  its  cold  con- 
ventionalities and  hypocrisies  ;  his  keen  eye  had  seen 
only  too  easily  the  hoUowness  and  corruption  that  lay 
beneath  the  outer  gloss  and  varnish — the  thin  veneer 
that  but  half  concealed  the  worminess  and  rottenness 
that  lay  beneath.  John  goes  out  into  the  desert  like 
another  scapegoat,  bearing  deep  within  his  heart  the 
sins  of  his  nation — sins,  alas,  which  are  yet  unrepented 
of  and  unforgiven  I  It  was  doubtless  thoughts  like  these, 
and  the  constant  brooding  upon  them,  which  gave  to 
the  Baptist  that  touch  of  melancholy  that  we  can  detect 
both  in  his  features  and  his  speech.  Austere  in 
person,  with  a  wail  in  his  voice  Hke  the  sighing  of 
the  wind,  or  charged  at  times  with  suppressed  thunders, 
the  Baptist  reminds  us  of  the  Peri,  who 

"  At  the  gate 
Of  Eden  stood  disconsolate." 

Sin  had  become  to  John  an  awful  fact.  He  could  see 
nothing  else.  The  fragments  of  the  law's  broken 
tables  strewed  the  land,  even  the  courts  of  the  Temple 
itself,  and  men  were  everywhere  tripping  against  them 
and  falling.  But  John  did  see  something  else ;  it  was 
the  day  of  the  Lord,  now  very  near,  the  day  that 
should  come  scathing  and  burning  ''as  a  furnace," 
unless,  meanwhile,  Israel  should  repent.  So  the  pro- 
phet mused,  and  as  he  mused  the  fire  burned  within 
his  soul,  even  the  fire  of  the  Refiner,  the  fire  of  God. 

Our  Evangelist  characterizes  the  opening  of  John's 
ministry  with  an  oflicial  word.  He  calls  it  a  "  show- 
ing," a  "manifestation,"  putting  upon  the  very  word 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE, 


the  Stamp  and  sanction  of  a  Divine  appointment.  He 
is  careful,  too,  to  mark  the  time,  so  giving  the  Gospel 
story  its  place  among  the  chronologies  of  the  world; 
which  he  does  in  a  most  elaborate  way.  He  first  reads 
the  time  on  the  horoscope  of  the  Empire,  whose 
swinging  pendulum  was  a  rising  or  a  falling  throne; 
and  he  states  that  it  was  "the  fifteenth  year  of  the 
reign  of  Tiberius  Caesar,"  counting  the  two  years  of 
his  joint  rule  with  Augustus.  Then,  as  if  that  were 
not  enough,  he  notes  the  hour  as  indicated  on  the  four 
quarters  of  the  Hebrew  commonwealth,  the  hour  when 
Pilate,  Herod,  Philip,  and  Lysanias  were  in  conjunc- 
tion, ruling  in  their  divided  heavens.  Then,  as  if  that 
even  were  not  enough,  he  marks  the  ecclesiastical  hour 
as  indicated  by  the  marble  time-piece  of  the  Temple ; 
it  was  when  Annas  and  Caiaphas  held  jointly  the  high 
priesthood.  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  elaborate 
mechanism,  wheels  within  wheels  ?  Is  it  because  the 
hour  is  so  important,  that  it  needs  the  hands  of  an 
emperor,  a  governor,  three  tetrarchs,  and  two  high 
priests  to  point  it  ?  Ewald  is  doubtless  right  in  saying 
that  St.  Luke,  as  the  historian,  wished  "  to  frame  the 
Gospel  history  into  the  great  history  of  the  world  "  by 
giving  precise  dates ;  but  if  that  were  the  Evangelist's 
main  reason,  such  an  accumulation  of  time-evidence 
were  scarcely  necessary ;  for  what  do  the  subsequent 
statements  add  to  the  precision  of  the  first — '*  In  the 
fifteenth  year  of  Tiberius  "  ?  We  must,  then,  seek  for 
the  Evangelist's  meaning  elsewhere.  Among  the  oldest 
of  the  Hebrew  prophecies  concerning  the  Messiah  was 
that  of  Jacob.  Closing  his  Ufe,  as  Moses  did  after- 
wards, with  a  wonderful  vision,  he  looked  down  on  the 
far-off  years,  and  speaking  of  the  coming  "  Seed,"  he 
said,  "  The  sceptre  shall  not  depart  from  Judah,  nor  a 


THE  VOICE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS,  9> 

lawgiver  from  between  his  feet,  until  Shiloh  come" 
(Gen.  xlix.  lO).  Might  not  this  prophecy  have  been  in 
the  thought  of  the  Evangelist  when  he  stayed  so  much 
longer  than  his  wont  to  note  times  and  seasons  ? 
Why  does  he  mention  Herod  and  Pilate,  Philip  and 
Lysanias,  but  to  show  how  the  sceptre  has,  alas, 
departed  from  Judah,  and  the  lawgiver  from  between 
his  feet,  and  how  the  chosen  land  is  torn  to  pieces  by 
the  Roman  eagles  ?  And  why  does  he  name  Annas 
and  Caiaphas,  but  to  show  how  the  same  disintegrating 
forces  are  at  work  even  within  the  Temple,  when  the 
rightful  high  priest  can  be  set  aside  and  superseded  by 
the  nominee  of  a  foreign  and  a  Pagan  power  ?  Verily 
"  the  glory  has  departed  from  Israel ; "  and  if  St.  Luke 
introduces  foreign  emperors,  tetrarchs,  and  governors, 
it  is  that  they  may  ring  a  muffled  peal  over  the  grave 
of  a  dead  nation,  a  funeral  knell,  which,  however,  shall 
be  the  signal  for  the  coming  of  the  Shiloh,  and  the 
gathering  of  the  people  unto  Him. 

Such  were  the  times — times  of  disorganization,  dis- 
order, and  almost  despair — when  the  word  of  God  came 
unto  John  in  the  wilderness.  It  came  "  upon  "  him, 
as  it  literally  reads,  probably  in  one  of  those  wonderful 
theophanies,  as  when  God  spake  to  Moses  from  the 
flaming  bush,  or  as  when  He  appeared  to  Elijah  upon 
Horeb,  sending  him  back  to  an  unfinished  task.  John 
obeyed.  Emerging  from  his  wilderness  retreat,  clad 
in  his  strange  attire,  spare  in  build,  his  features  sharp 
and  worn  with  fasting,  his  long,  dishevelled  hair  telling 
of  his  Nazarite  vow,  he  moves  down  to  the  Jordan 
like  an  apparition.  His  appearance  is  everywhere 
hailed  with  mingled  curiosity  and  delight.  Crowds 
come  in  ever-increasing  numbers,  not  one  class  only, 
but  all  classes — priests,  soldiers,  officials,  people — until 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 


it  seemed  as  if  the  cities  had  emptied  themselves  into 
the  Jordan  valley.  And  what  went  they  "out  for  to 
see  "  ?  "A  reed  shaken  with  the  wind  "  ?  A  prophe- 
sier  of  smooth  things  ?  A  preacher  of  revolt  against 
tyranny  ?  Nay ;  John  was  no  wind-shaken  reed ; 
he  was  rather  the  heavenly  wind  itself,  swaying  the 
multitudes  at  will,  and  bending  hearts  and  consciences 
into  penitence  and  prayer.  John  was  no  preacher  of 
revolt  against  the  powers  that  be ;  in  his  mind,  Israel 
had  revolted  more  and  more,  and  he  must  bring  them 
back  to  their  allegiance,  or  himself  die  in  the  attempt. 
John  was  no  preacher  of  smooth  things ;  there  was 
not  even  the  charm  of  variety  about  his  speech.  The 
one  burden  of  his  message  was,  "  Repent :  for  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand."  But  the  effect  was 
marvellous.  The  lone  voice  from  the  wilderness  swept 
over  the  land  like  the  breath  of  God.  Borne  forwards 
on  a  thousand  Hps,  it  echoed  through  the  cities  and 
penetrated  into  remotest  places.  Judaea,  Samaria,  and 
even  distant  Galilee  felt  the  quiver  of  the  strange 
voice,  and  even  from  the  shore  of  the  Northern  Sea 
men  came  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  the  new  teacher,  and 
to  call  themselves  John's  disciples.  So  widespread 
and  so  deep  was  the  movement,  it  sent  its  ripples  even 
within  the  royal  palace,  awaking  the  curiosity,  and 
perhaps  the  conscience,  of  Herod  himself.  It  was  a 
genuine  revival  of  religion,  such  as  Judaea  had  not 
witnessed  since  the  days  of  Ezra,  the  awaking  of  the 
national  conscience  and  of  the  national  hope. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  difficult,  by  any  analysis  of 
ours,  to  discover  or  to  define  the  secret  of  John's 
success.  It  was  the  resultant,  not  of  one  force,  but 
of  many.  For  instance,  the  hour  was  favourable.  It 
was  the  Sabbatic  year,  when   field-work  was   in   the 


IHE    yOICE  IN   THE   fVILDERNL^j:^.  93 


main  suspended,  and  men  everywhere  had  leisure, 
mind  and  hand  lying,  as  it  were,  fallow.  Then,  too, 
the  very  dress  of  the  Baptist  would  not  be  without  its 
influence,  especially  on  a  mind  so  sensitive  to  form 
and  colour  as  the  Hebrew  mind  was.  Dress  to  them 
was  a  form  of  duty.  They  were  accustomed  to  weave 
into  their  tassels  sacred  symbols,  so  making  the  external 
speak  of  the  eternal.  Their  hands  played  on  the  parti- 
coloured threads  most  faithfully  and  sacredly;  for 
were  not  these  the  chords  of  Divine  harmonies  ?  But 
here  is  one  who  discards  both  the  priestly  and  the 
civilian  dress,  and  who  wears,  instead,  the  rough  camel's 
hair  robe  of  the  old  prophets.  The  very  dress  would 
thus  appeal  most  powerfully  to  their  imagination, 
carrying  back  their  thoughts  to  the  time  of  the  Theo- 
cracy, when  Jehovah  was  not  silent  as  now,  and  when 
Heaven  was  so  near,  speaking  by  some  Samuel  or 
Elijah.  Are  those  days  returning  ?  they  would  ask.  Is 
this  the  Elias  who  was  to  come  and  restore  all  things  ? 
Surely  it  must  be.  And  in  the  rustle  of  the  Baptist's 
robe  they  heard  the  rustle  of  Elijah's  mantle,  dropping 
a  second  time  by  these  Jordan  banks.  Then,  too, 
there  was  the  personal  charm  of  the  man.  John  was 
young,  if  years  are  our  reckoning,  for  he  counted  but 
thirty ;  but  in  his  case  the  verve  and  energy  of  youth 
were  blended  with  the  discretion  and  saintliness  of  age. 
What  was  the  world  to  him,  its  fame,  its  luxury  and 
wealth  ?  They  were  only  the  dust  he  shook  from  his 
feet,  as  his  spirit  sighed  for  and  soared  after  Heaven's 
better  things.  He  asks  nothing  of  earth  but  her 
plainest  fare,  a  couch  of  grass,  and  by-and-by  a  grave. 
Then,  too,  there  was  a  positiveness  about  the  man, 
that  would  naturally  attract,  in  a  drifting,  shifting, 
vacillating   age.      The   strong  will   is  magnetic;  the 


94  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

weaker  wills  follow  and  cluster  round  it,  as  swarm- 
ing bees  cluster  around  their  queen.  And  John  was 
intensely  positive.  His  speech  was  clear-cut  and 
incisive,  with  a  tremendous  earnestness  in  it,  as  if 
a  "Thus  saith  the  Lord"  were  at  his  heart.  John's 
mood  was  not  the  subjunctive,  where  his  words  could 
eddy  among  the  "  mays  "  and  "  mights ; "  it  was  plainly 
the  indicative,  or  better  still,  the  imperative.  He  spoke 
as  one  who  believed,  and  who  intensely  felt  what  he 
believed.  Then,  too,  there  was  a  certain  nobleness 
about  his  courage.  He  knew  no  rank,  no  party ;  he 
was  superior  to  all.  He  feared  God  too  much  to  have 
any  fear  of  man.  He  spake  no  word  for  the  sake  of 
pleasing,  and  he  kept  back  no  word — even  the  hot 
rebuke — for  fear  of  offending.  Truth  to  him  was 
more  than  titles,  and  right  was  the  only  royalty.  How 
he  painted  the  Pharisees — those  shiny,  slimy  men, 
with  creeping,  sinuous  ways — with  that  dark  epithet 
**  brood  of  vipers  "  1  With  what  a  fearless  courage  he 
denounced  the  incest  of  Herod  I  He  will  not  level 
down  Sinai,  accommodating  it  to  royal  passions  I  Not 
he.  "  It  is  not  lawful  for  thee  to  have  her " — such 
were  his  words,  that  rolled  in  upon  Herod's  conscience 
like  a  peal  of  Sinai's  thunder,  telling  him  that  law  was 
law,  that  right  was  more  than  might,  and  purity  more 
than  power.  Then,  too,  there  was  something  about 
his  message  that  was  attractive.  That  word  *'the 
kingdom  of  heaven"  struck  upon  the  national  heart 
like  a  bell,  and  set  it  vibrating  with  new  hopes,  and 
awaking  all  kinds  of  beautiful  dreams  of  recovered 
pre-eminence  and  power. 

But  while  all  these  were  auxiliaries,  factors,  anc' 
co-efficients  in  the  problem  of  the  Baptist's  success, 
they  are   not  sufficient   in  themselves  to  account  fear 


THE   VOICE  IN  THE   WILDERNESS. 


that  success.  It  is  not  difficult  for  a  man  of  superior 
mental  attainment,  and  of  strong  individuality,  to  attract 
a  following,  especially  if  that  following  be  in  the  direc- 
tion of  self-interest.  The  emotions  and  passions  of 
humanity  lie  near  the  surface;  they  can  be  easily 
swept  into  a  storm  by  the  strong  or  by  the  pathetic 
voice.  But  to  reach  the  conscience,  to  lift  up  the  veil, 
and  to  pass  within  to  that  Most  Holy  of  the  human 
soul  is  what  man,  unaided,  cannot  do.  Only  the 
Divine  Voice  can  break  those  deep  silences  of  the  heart ; 
or  if  the  human  voice  is  used  the  power  is  not  in  the 
words  of  human  speech — those  words,  even  the  best, 
are  but  the  dead  wires  along  which  the  Divine  Voice 
moves — it  is  the  power  of  God. 

"Some  men  live  near  to  God,  as  my  right  arm 
Is  near  to  me;  and  then  they  walk  about 
Mailed  in  full  proof  of  faith,  and  bear  a  charm 
That  mocks  at  fear,  and  bars  the  door  on  doubt, 
And  dares  the  impossible." 

Just  such  a  man  was  the  Baptist.  He  was  a  "  man 
of  God."  He  lived,  and  moved,  and  had  his  being  in 
God.  Self  to  him  was  an  extinct  passion.  Envy, 
pride,  ambition,  jealousy,  these  were  unknown  tongues ; 
his  pure  soul  understood  not  their  meaning.  Like  his 
great  prototype,  **  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  God"  was 
upon  him.  His  life  was  one  conscious  inspiration; 
and  John  himself  had  been  baptized  with  the  baptism 
of  which  he  spoke,  but  which  he  himself  could  not 
give,  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  of  fire.  This 
only  will  account  for  the  wonderful  effects  produced 
by  his  preaching.  John,  in  his  own  experience,  had 
antedated  Pentecost,  receiving  the  "power  from  on 
high,"  and  as  he  spoke  it  was  with  a  tongue  of  fire, 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 


a  voice  in  whose  accent  and  tone  the  people  could 
detect  the  deeper  Voice  of  God. 

But  if  John  could  not  baptize  with  the  higher  bap- 
tism, usurping  the  functions  of  the  One  coming  after, 
he  could,  and  he  did,  institute  a  lower,  symbolic  baptism 
of  water,  that  thus  the  visible  might  lead  up  to  the 
invisible.  In  what  mode  John's  baptism  was  adminis- 
tered we  cannot  tell,  nor  is  it  material  that  we  should 
know.  We  do  baow,  however,  that  the  baptism  of  the 
Spirit — and  in  John's  mind  the  two  were  closely  related 
— was  constantly  referred  to  in  Scripture  as  an  effusion, 
a  *'  pouring  out,"  a  sprinkUng,  and  never  once  as  an 
immersion.  And  what  was  the  "  baptism  of  fire "  to 
the  mind  of  John  ?  Was  it  not  that  which  the  prophet 
Isaiah  had  experienced,  when  the  angel  touched  his 
lips  with  the  live  coal  taken  from  the  altar,  pronounc- 
ing over  him  the  great  absolution,  "Lo,  this  hath 
touched  thy  Hps ;  and  thine  iniquity  is  taken  away,  and 
thy  sin  purged  "  (Isa.  vi.  7)  ?  At  best,  the  baptism  of 
water  is  but  a  shadow  of  the  better  thing,  the  outward 
symbol  of  an  inward  grace.  We  need  not  quarrel 
about  modes  and  forms.  Scripture  has  purposely  left 
them  indeterminate,  so  that  we  need  not  wrangle  about 
them.  There  is  no  need  that  we  exalt  the  shadow, 
levelling  it  up  to  the  substance ;  and  still  less  should 
we  level  it  down,  turning  it  into  a  playground  for  the 
schools. 

Thus  far  the  lives  of  Jesus  and  John  have  lain  apart. 
One  growing  up  in  the  hill-country  of  Galilee,  the 
other  in  the  hill-country  of  Judaea,  and  then  in  the 
isolation  of  the  wilderness,  they  have  never  looked 
in  each  other's  face,  though  they  have  doubtless  heard 
often  of  each  other's  mission.  They  meet  at  last 
John   had   been   constantly  teUing  of  One   who  wai 


THB    VOICE  IN  THE    WILDERNESS.  97 

coming  after — "after,"  indeed,  in  order  of  time,  but  "be- 
fore," infinitely  before,  in  pre-eminence  and  authority. 
Mightier  than  he.  He  was  the  Lord.  John  would  deem 
it  an  honour  to  kneel  down  before  so  august  a  Master, 
to  untie  and  bear  away  His  shoes  ;  for  in  such  a 
Presence  servility  was  both  becoming  and  ennobling. 
With  s\xjh  '?ords  as  these  the  crier  in  the  wilderness 
had  been  transferring  the  people's  thought  from  him- 
self, and  setting  their  hearls  listening  for  the  Coming 
One,  so  preparing  and  broadening  His  way.  Suddenly, 
in  one  of  the  pauses  of  his  ministrations,  a  Stranger 
presents  Himself,  and  asks  that  the  rite  of  baptism  may 
be  administered  to  Him.  There  is  nothing  peculiar 
about  His  dress ;  He  is-  younger  than  the  Baptist — 
much  younger,  apparently,  for  the  rough,  ascetic  life 
has  prematurely  aged  him — but  such  is  the  grace  and 
dignity  of  His  person,  such  the  mingled  "  strength  and 
beauty  "  of  His  manhood,  that  even  John,  who  never 
quailed  in  the  presence  of  mortal  before,  is  awed  and 
abashed  now.  Discerning  the  innate  Royalty  of  the 
Stranger,  and  receiving  a  monition  from  the  Higher 
World,  with  which  he  kept  up  close  correspondence, 
the  Baptist  is  assured  that  it  is  He,  the  Lord  and 
Christ  Immediately  his  whole  manner  changes.  The 
voice  that  has  swept  over  the  land  like  a  whirlwind, 
now  is  hushed,  subdued,  speaking  softly,  de*-;rentially, 
reverentially.  Here  is  a  Presence  in  which  his  im- 
peratives all  melt  away  and  disappear,  a  Will  that  is 
infinitely  higher  than  his  own,  a  Person  for  whom 
his  baptism  is  out  of  place.  John  is  perplexed ;  he 
hesitates,  he  demurs.  **  I  have  need  to  be  baptized  of 
Thee,  and  comest  Thou  to  me  ?  "  and  John,  Elias-like, 
would  fain  have  wrapped  his  mantle  around  his  face^ 
burying  out  of  sight  his  little  *'  me,"  in  the  presence  ol 

7 


98  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

the  Lord.  But  Jesus  said,  "  Suffer  it  now :  for  thus 
it  becometh  us  to  fulfil  all  righteousness  "  (Matt.  iii.  15). 

The  baptism  of  Jesus  was  evidently  a  new  kind  of 
baptism,  one  in  which  the  usual  formulas  were 
strangely  out  of  place;  and  the  question  naturally 
arises,  Why  should  Jesus  submit  to,  and  even  ask 
for,  a  baptism  that  was  so  associated  with  repentance 
and  sin  ?  Could  there  be  any  place  for  repentance, 
any  room  for  confession,  in  the  Sinless  One?  John 
felt  the  anomaly,  and  so  shrank  from  administering  the 
rite,  till  the  reply  of  Jesus  put  His  baptism  on  different 
ground — ground  altogether  clear  of  any  personal 
demerit.  Jesus  asked  for  baptism,  not  for  the  wash- 
ing away  of  sin,  but  that  He  might  "  fulfil  all  righteous- 
ness." He  was  baptized,  not  for  His  own  sake,  but 
for  the  world's  sake.  Coming  to  redeem  humanity, 
He  would  identify  Himself  with  that  humanity,  even 
the  sinful  humanity  that  it  was.  Son  of  God,  He 
would  become  a  true  Son  of  man,  that  through  His 
redemption  all  other  sons  of  men  might  become  true 
sons  of  God.  Bearing  the  sins  of  many,  taking  away 
the  sin  of  the  world,  that  heavy  burden  lay  at  His 
heart  from  the  first;  He  could  not  lay  it  down  until 
He  left  it  nailed  to  His  cross.  Himself  knowing  no 
sin.  He  yet  becomes  the  Sin-offering,  and  is  "  numbered 
among  the  transgressors."  And  as  Jesus  went  to  the 
cross  and  into  the  grave  mediatorially,  as  Humanity's 
Son,  so  Jesus  now  passes  into  the  baptismal  waters 
mediatorially,  repenting  for  that  world  whose  heart  is 
still  hard,  and  whose  eyes  are  dry  of  godly  tears,  and 
confessing  the  sin  which  He  in  love  has  made  His  own, 
the  **  sin  of  the  world,"  the  sin  He  has  come  to  make 
atonement  for  and  to  bear  away. 

Such   is   the   meaning   of  the  Jordan   baptism,   in 


THE    VOICE  IN  THE    WILDERNESS.  99 

which  Jesus  puts  the  stamp  of  Divinity  upon  John's 
mission,  while  John  bears  witness  to  the  sinlessness  of 
Jesus.  But  a  Higher  Witness  came  than  even  that  of 
John ;  for  no  sooner  was  the  rite  administered,  and  the 
river-bank  regained,  than  the  heavens  were  opened, 
and  the  Spirit  of  God,  in  the  form  of  a  fiery  dove 
descended  and  alighted  on  the  head  of  Jesus;  while 
a  Voice  out  of  the  Unseen  proclaimed,  "  This  is  My 
beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased."  And  so  the 
Son  of  man  receives  the  heavenly,  as  well  as  the 
earthly  baptism.  Baptized  with  water.  He  is  now 
baptized  with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire,  anointed 
with  the  unction  of  the  Holy  One.  But  why  should 
llie  Holy  Spirit  descend  upon  Jesus  in  the  form  of  a 
dove,  and  afterwards  upon  the  disciples  in  the  form  of 
cloven  tongues  of  fire  ?  We  can  understand  the 
symbolism  of  the  cloven  tongues;  for  was  not  their 
mission  to  preach  and  teach,  spreading  and  establishing 
the  kingdom  by  a  consecrated  speech — the  Divine 
word  carried  forward  by  the  human  voice?  What, 
then,  is  the  meaning  of  the  dove-form  ?  Does  it  refer 
to  the  dove  of  the  Old  Dispensation,  which  bearing  the 
olive-leaf  in  its  mouth,  preached  its  Gospel  to  the 
dwellers  in  the  ark,  telling  of  the  abatement  of  the 
angry  waters,  and  of  a  salvation  that  was  near  ?  And 
was  not  Jesus  a  heavenly  Dove,  bearing  to  the  world 
the  olive-branch  of  reconciliation  and  of  peace,  pro- 
claiming the  fuller,  wider  Gospel  of  mercy  and  of  love  ? 
The  supposition,  at  any  rate,  is  a  possible  one,  while  the 
words  of  Jesus  would  almost  make  it  a  probable  one  ; 
for  speaking  of  this  same  baptism  of  the  Spirit,  He 
says — and  in  His  words  we  can  hear  the  beat  and 
whir  of  dove-wings — "He  anointed  me  to  preach 
good  tidings  to  the  poor :  He  hath  sent  me  to  proclaim 


100  2^1   ^i,^r£L   OF  ST.  Li/ A  A, 

release  to  the  captives,  ...  to  set  at  liberty  them  that 
are  bruised  "  (iv.  i8). 

The  interview  between  Jesus  and  John  was  but 
brief,  and  in  all  probability  final.  They  spend  the 
following  night  near  to  each  other,  but  apart.  The  day 
after,  John  sees  Jesus  walking,  but  the  narrative  would 
imply  that  they  did  not  meet.  John  only  points  to  Him 
and  says,  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away 
the  sin  of  the  world ; "  and  they  part,  each  to  follow  his 
separate  path,  and  to  accomplish  his  separate  mission. 

"  The  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the 
world."  Such  was  John's  testimony  to  Jesus,  in  the 
moment  of  his  clearest  illumination.  He  saw  in  Jesus, 
not  as  one  learned  writer  would  have  us  suppose, 
the  sheep  of  David's  pastoral,  its  life  encircled  with 
green  pastures  and  still  waters — not  this,  but  a  lamb, 
"  the  Lamb  of  God,"  the  Paschal  Lamb,  led  all  uncom- 
plaining to  the  slaughter,  and  by  its  death  bearing 
away  sin — not  either  the  sin  of  a  year  or  the  sin  of  a 
race,  but  "  the  sin  of  the  world."  Never  had  prophet 
so  prophesied  before;  never  had  mortal  eye  seen  so 
clearly  and  so  deeply  into  God's  great  mystery  of 
mercy.  How,  then,  can  we  explain  that  mood  of  dis- 
appointment and  of  doubt  which  afterwards  fell  upon 
John?  What  does  it  mean  that  from  his  prison  he 
should  send  two  of  his  disciples  to  Jesus  with  the 
strange  question,  "  Art  Thou  He  that  cometh,  or  look 
we  for  another?"  (vii.  19).  John  is  evidently  dis- 
appointed— yes,  and  dejected  too;  and  the  Elias  still, 
Herod's  prison  is  to  him  the  juniper  of  the  desert.  He 
thought  the  Christ  would  be  one  like  unto  himself, 
crying  in  the  wilderness,  but  with  a  louder  voice  and 
more  penetrating  accent.  He  would  be  some  ardent 
Reformer,  with  axe  in  hand,  or  fan,  and  with  baptism 


THE   VOICE  IN  THE    WILDERNESS, 


lOI 


of  fire.  But  lo,  Jesus  comes  so  different  from  his  thought 
— with  no  axe  in  hand  that  he  can  see,  with  no  baptism 
of  fire  that  he  can  hear  of,  a  Sower  rather  than  a 
Winnower,  scattering  thoughts,  principles,  beatitudes, 
and  parables,  telling  not  so  much  of  "  the  wrath  to 
come  "  as  of  the  love  that  is  already  come,  if  men  will 
but  repent  and  receive  it — that  John  is  fairly  perplexed, 
and  actually  sends  to  Jesus  for  some  word  that  shall  be 
a  solvent  for  his  doubts.  It  only  shows  how  this  Elias, 
too,  was  a  man  of  hke  passions  with  ourselves,  and 
that  even  prophets'  eyes  were  sometimes  dim,  reading 
God's  purposes  with  a  blurred  vision.  Jesus  returns 
a  singular  answer.  He  says  neither  Yes  nor  No ;  but 
He  goes  out  and  works  His  accustomed  miracles,  and 
then  dismisses  the  two  disciples  with  the  message,  "Go 
your  way,  and  tell  John  what  things  ye  have  seen  and 
heard ;  how  that  the  blind  see,  the  lame  walk,  the 
lepers  are  cleansed,  the  deaf  hear,  the  dead  are  raised, 
to  the  poor  the  Gospel  is  preached.  And  blessed  is 
he,  whosoever  shall  not  be  offended  in  Me."  These 
words  are  in  part  a  quotation  from  John's  favourite 
prophet,  Isaiah,  who  emphasized  as  no  other  prophet 
did  the  evangelistic  character  of  Christ's  mission — 
which  characteristic  John  seems  to  have  overlooked. 
In  his  thought  the  Christ  was  Judge,  the  great  Refiner, 
sifting  the  base  from  the  pure,  and  casting  it  into  some 
Gehenna  of  burnings.  But  Jesus  reminds  John  that 
mercy  is  before  and  above  judgment ;  that  He  has 
come,  "  not  to  condemn  the  world,"  but  to  save  it,  and 
to  save  it,  not  by  reiterations  of  the  law,  but  by  a 
manifestation  of  love.  Ebal  and  Sinai  have  had  their 
word ;  now  Gerizim  and  Calvary  must  speak. 

And  so  this  greatest  of  the  prophets  was  but  human, 
And  therefore  fallible.     He  saw  the  Christ,  no  iongei 


108  THS  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

afar  off,  but  near — yea,  present ;  but  he  saw  in  part,  and 
he  prophesied  in  part.  He  did  not  see  the  whole 
Christ,  or  grasp  the  full  purport  of  His  mission.  He 
stood  on  the  threshold  of  the  kingdom ;  but  the  least 
of  those  who  should  pass  within  that  kingdom  should 
stand  on  a  higher  vantage-ground,  and  so  be  greater 
than  he.  Indeed,  it  seems  scarcely  possible  that  John 
could  have  fully  understood  Jesus ;  the  two  were  so 
entirely  different.  In  dress,  in  address,  in  mode  of 
life,  in  thought  the  two  were  exact  opposites.  John 
occupies  the  border-region  between  the  Old  and  the 
New;  and  though  his  life  appears  in  the  New,  he 
himself  belongs  rather  to  the  Old  Dispensation.  His 
accent  is  Mosaic,  his  message  a  tritonomy,  a  third 
giving  of  the  law.  When  asked  the  all-important 
question,  "  What  shall  we  do  ? "  John  laid  stress  on 
works  of  charity,  and  by  his  metaphor  of  the  two  coats 
he  showed  that  men  should  endeavour  to  equalize  their 
mercies.  And  when  publicans  and  soldiers  ask  the 
same  question  John  gives  a  sort  of  transcript  of  the 
old  tables,  striking  the  negatives  of  duty  :  "  Extort  no 
more  than  that  which  is  appointed  you ; "  "  Do  violence 
to  no  man."  Jesus  would  have  answered  in  the  simple 
positive  that  covered  all  classes  and  all  cases  alike: 
"  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself."  But  such 
was  the  difference  between  the  Old  and  the  New :  the 
one  said,  "Do,  and  thou  shalt  live;"  the  other  said, 
"Live,  and  thou  shalt  do."  The  voice  of  John  awoke 
the  conscience,  but  he  could  not  give  it  rest.  He  was 
the  preparer  of  the  way ;  Jesus  was  the  Way,  as  He 
was  the  Truth  and  the  Life.  John  was  the  Voice; 
Jesus  was  the  Word.  John  must  "decrease"  and 
disappear ;  Jesus  must  "  increase,"  filling  all  times  and 
all  climes  with  His  glorious,  abiding  presence. 


THE   VOICE  IN  THE   WILDERNESS.  103 

But  the  mission  of  John  is  drawing  to  a  close,  and 
dark  clouds  are  gathering  in  the  west.  The  popular 
idol  still,  a  hostile  current  has  set  against  him.  The 
Pharisees,  unforgetting  and  unforgiving,  are  deadly 
bitter,  creeping  across  his  path,  and  hissing  out  their 
"  Devil ; "  while  Herod,  who  in  his  better  moods  hail 
invited  the  Baptist  to  his  palace,  now  casts  him  into 
prison.  He  will  silence  the  voice  he  has  failed  to 
bribe,  the  voice  that  beat  against  the  chambers  of  his 
revelry,  like  a  strange  midnight  gust,  and  that  set  him 
trembling  like  an  aspen.  We  need  not  linger  over 
the  last  sad  tragedy — how  the  royal  birthday  was 
kept,  with  a  banquet  to  tUfe  State  officials;  how  the 
courtesan  daughter  of  Herodias  came  in  and  danced 
before  the  guests;  and  how  the  half-drunken  Herod 
swore  a  rash  oath,  that  he  Vvould  give  her  anything  she 
might  ask,  up  to  the  half  of  his  kingdom.  Herodias 
knew  well  what  wine  and  passion  would  do  for  Herod. 
She  even  guessed  his  promise  beforehand,  and  had  given 
full  directions  to  her  daughter ;  and  soon  as  the  rash 
oath  had  fallen  from  his  lips — before  he  could  recall  or 
change  his  words — sharp  and  quick  the  request  is  made, 
"  Give  me  here  John  Baptist's  head  in  a  charger."  There 
is  a  momentary  conflict,  and  Herod  gives  the  fearful 
word.  The  head  of  John  is  brought  into  the  banquet- 
hall  before  the  assembled  guests — the  long  flowing  locks, 
the  eyes  that  even  in  death  seemed  to  sparkle  with  the 
fire  of  God ;  the  lips  sacred  to  purity  and  truth,  the  Hps 
that  could  not  gloss  a  sin,  even  the  sin  of  a  Herod.  Yes ; 
it  is  there,  the  head  of  John  the  Baptist.  The  courtiers 
see  it,  and  smile ;  Herod  sees  it,  but  does  not  smile. 
That  face  haunts  him ;  he  never  forgets  it.  The  dead 
prophet  lives  still,  and  becomes  to  Herod  another 
conscience. 


IQ4  THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE, 

"  And  she  brought  it  to  her  mother.  And  his  disciples 
came,  and  took  up  the  corpse,  and  buried  him ;  and  they 
went  and  told  Jesus"  (Matt.  xiv.  1 1,  12).  Such  is  the 
finis  to  a  consecrated  life,  and  such  the  work  achieved  by 
one  man,  in  a  ministry  that  was  only  counted  by  months. 
Shall  noJ^,  this  be  his  epitaph,  recording  his  faithfulness 
and  zeal,  and  at  the  same  time  rebuking  our  aimlessness 
and  slotb^  ?  ^ 

"  He  liveth  long  who  liveth  well ; 
All  other  life  is  short  and  vain  j 
He  liveth  longest  who  can  tell 
Of  Uving  most  for  heavenly 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   TEMPTATION. 

THE  waters  of  the  Jordan  do  not  more  effectually 
divide  the  Holy  Land  than  they  bisect  the  Holy 
Life.  The  thirty  years  of  Nazareth  were  quiet  enough, 
amid  the  seclusions  of  nature  and  the  attractions  of 
home;  but  the  double  baptism  by  the  Jordan  now 
remits  that  sweet  idyll  to  the  past.  The  I  AM  of  the 
New  Testament  moves  forward  from  the  passive  to 
the  active  voice;  the  long  peace  is  exchanged  for 
the  conflict  whose  consummation  will  be  the  Divine 
Passion. 

The  subject  of  our  Lord's  temptation  is  mysterious, 
and  therefore  difficult.  Lying  in  part  within  the  domain 
of  human  consciousness  and  experience,  it  stretches  far 
beyond  our  sight,  throwing  its  dark  projections  into  the 
realm  of  spirit,  that  realm,  "  dusk  with  horrid  shade," 
which  Reason  may  not  traverse,  and  which  Revelation 
itself  has  not  illumined,  save  by  occasional  lines  of  light, 
thrown  into,  rather  than  across  it.  We  cannot,  perhaps, 
hope  to  have  a  perfect  understanding  of  it,  for  in  a 
subject  so  wide  and  deep  there  is  room  for  the  play 
of  many  hypotheses;  but  inspiration  would  not  have 
recorded  the  event  so  minutely  had  it  not  a  direct 
bearing  upon  the  whole  of  the  Divine  Life,  and  were  it 
not  full  of  pregnant  Wessons  for  all  times.  To  Him  who 
i^uffered  within  it,  it  was  jl  wilderness  indeed ;  but  to  us 


io6  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

**  the  wilderness  and  the  solitary  place "  have  become 
'*  glad,  and  the  desert .  .  .  blossoms  as  the  rose."  Let  us, 
then,  seek  the  wilderness  reverently  yet  hopefully,  and 
in  doing  so  let  us  carry  in  our  minds  these  two  guiding 
thoughts — they  will  prove  a  silken  thread  for  the  laby- 
rinth— first,  that  Jesus  was  tempted  as  man ;  and 
second,  that  Jesus  was  tempted  as  the  Son  of  man. 

Jesus  was  tempted  as  man.  It  is  true  that  in  His 
Person  the  human  and  the  Divine  natures  were  in  some 
mysterious  way  united  ;  that  in  His  flesh  was  the  great 
mystery,  the  manifestation  of  God ;  but  now  we  must 
regard  Him  as  divested  of  these  dignities  and  Divinities. 
They  are  laid  aside,  with  all  other  pre-mundane  glories ; 
and  whatever  His  miraculous  power,  for  the  present  it  is 
as  if  it  were  not.  Jesus  takes  with  Him  into  the  wilder- 
ness our  manhood,  a  perfect  humanity  of  flesh  and  blood, 
of  bone  and  nerve ;  no  Docetic  shadow,  but  a  real  body, 
"made  in  all  things  like  unto  His  brethren;"  and  He 
goes  into  the  wilderness,  to  be  tempted,  not  in  some 
unearthly  way,  as  one  spirit  might  be  tempted  of 
another,  but  to  be  "  tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we 
are,"  in  a  fashion  perfectly  human.  Then,  too,  Jesus 
was  tempted  as  the  Son  of  man,  not  only  as  the  perfect 
Man,  but  as  the  representative  Man.  As  the  first  Adam, 
by  disobedience,  fell,  and  fallen,  was  driven  forth  into  the 
wilderness,  so  the  second  Adam  comes  to  take  the  place 
of  the  first.  Tracking  the  steps  of  the  first  Adam,  He 
too  goes  out  into  the  wilderness,  that  He  may  spoil  the 
spoiler,  and  that  by  His  perfect  obedience  He  may  lead 
a  fallen  but  redeemed  humanity  back  again  to  Paradise, 
reversing  the  whole  drift  of  the  Fall,  and  turning  it  into 
a  "  rising  again  for  many."  And  so  Jesus  goes,  as  the 
Representative  Man,  to  do  battle  for  humanity,  and  to 
receive  in  His  own  Person,  not  one  form  of  temptation, 


1  nh    I  EMt-'I  A  TI  ON.  I07 

as  the  first  Adam  did,  but  every  form  that  malignant 
Evil  can  devise,  or  that  humanity  can  know.  Bearing 
these  two  facts  in  mind,  we  will  consider — (i)  the 
circumstances  of  the  Temptation,  and  (2)  the  nature  ot 
the  Temptation. 

I.  The  circumstances  of  the  Temptation.  '*  And 
Jesus,  full  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  returned  from  the  Jordan, 
and  was  led  by  the  Spirit  in  the  wilderness."  The 
Temptation,  then,  occurred  immediately  after  the  twofold 
baptism ;  or,  as  St.  Mark  expresses  it,  using  his  charac- 
teristic viTord,  "And  straightway  the  Spirit  driveth  Him 
forth  into  the  wilderness"  (Mark  i.  12).  Evidently 
there  is  -^ome  connection  between  the  Jordan  and  the 
wilderness,  and  there  were  Divine  reasons  why  the 
test  should  be  placed  directly  after  the  baptism.  Those 
Jordan  waters  were  the  inauguration  for  His  mission — a 
kind  of  Beautiful  Gate,  leading  up  to  the  different  courts 
and  courses  of  His  public  ministry,  and  then  up  to  the 
altar  of  sacrifice.  The  baptism  of  the  Spirit  was  His 
anointing  for  that  ministry,  and  borrowing  our  light 
from  the  after  Pentecostal  days.  His  enduement  of 
power  for  that  ministry.  The  Divine  purpose,  which 
had  been  gradually  shaping  itself  to  His  mind,  now 
opens  in  one  vivid  revelation.  The  veil  of  mist  in 
which  that  purpose  had  been  enwrapped  is  swept  away 
by  the  Spirit's  breath,  disclosing  to  His  view  the  path 
redeeming  Love  must  take,  even  the  way  of  the  cross. 
It  is  probable,  too,  that  He  received  at  the  same  time, 
if  not  the  enduement,  at  least  the  consciousness  of 
miraculous  power ;  for  St.  John,  with  one  stroke  of  his 
pen,  brushes  away  those  glossy  webs  that  later  tradi- 
tion has  spun,  the  miracles  of  the  Childhood.  The 
Scriptures  do  not  represent  Jesus  as  any  prodigy.  His 
cbiMhood,  youth,  and  manhood  were  like  the  corre- 


I08  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKB, 

spending  phases  of  other  lives ;  and  the  Gospels  cer- 
tainly put  no  aureole  about  His  head — that  was  the 
afterglow  of  traditional  fancy.  Now,  however,  as  He 
leaves  the  wilderness,  He  goes  to  open  His  mission  at 
Cana,  where  He  works  His  first  miracle,  turning,  by  a 
look,  the  water  into  wine.  The  whole  Temptation,  as 
we  shall  see,  was  one  prolonged  attack  upon  His 
miraculous  power,  seeking  to  divert  it  into  unlawful 
channels ;  which  makes  it  more  than  probable  that  this 
power  was  first  consciously  received  at  the  baptism — 
the  second  baptism  of  fire ;  it  was  a  part  of  the  anoint- 
ing of  the  Lord  He  then  experienced. 

We  read  that  Jesus  now  was  "full  of  the  Holy 
Spirit"  It  is  an  expression  not  infrequent  in  the 
pages  of  the  New  Testament,  for  we  have  already  met 
with  it  in  connection  with  Zacharias  and  Elisabeth ; 
and,  St.  Luke  makes  use  of  it  several  times  in  his  later 
treatise  on  the  "Acts."  In  these  cases,  however,  it 
generally  marked  some  special  and  sudden  illumination 
or  inspiration,  which  was  more  or  less  temporary,  the 
inspiration  passing  away  when  its  purpose  was  served. 
But  whether  this  "  filling  of  the  Spirit "  was  temporary, 
or  permanent,  as  in  the  case  of  Stephen  and  Barnabas, 
the  expression  always  marked  the  highest  elevation  of 
human  fife,  when  the  human  spirit  was  in  entire  subor- 
dination to  the  Divine.  To  Jesus,  now,  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  given  without  measure ;  and  we,  who  in  our 
far-oflf  experiences  can  recall  moments  of  Divine  bap- 
tisms, when  our  spirits  seemed  for  the  time  to  be 
caught  up  into  Paradise,  hearing  voices  and  beholding 
visions  we  might  not  utter,  even  we  may  understand  in 
part — though  but  in  part — what  must  have  been  the 
emotions  and  ecstasies  of  that  memorable  hour  by  the 
Jordan.     How  much  the  opened  heavens  would  mean 


THS  TEMPTATION,  109 

to  Him,  to  whom  they  had  been  so  long  and  strangely 
closed  1  How  the  Voice  that  declared  His  heavenly 
Sonship,  "This  is  My  beloved  Son,"  must  have  sent 
its  vibrations  quivering  through  soul  and  spirit,  almost 
causing  the  tabernacle  of  His  flesh  to  tremble  with  the 
new  excitements  I  Mysterious  though  it  may  seem  to 
us,  who  ask  impotently,  How  can  these  things  be  ?  yet 
unless  we  strip  the  heavenly  baptism  of  all  reality, 
reducing  it  to  a  mere  play  of  words,  we  must  suppose 
that  Jesus,  who  now  becomes  Jesus  Christ,  was  hence- 
forth more  directly  and  completely  than  before  under 
the  conscious  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  What 
was  an  atmosphere  enswathing  the  young  Hfe,  bringing 
to  that  life  its  treasures  of  grace,  beauty,  and  strength, 
now  becomes  a  breath,  or  rather  a  rushing  wind,  of 
God,  carrying  that  life  forward  upon  its  mission  and 
upward  to  its  goal.  And  so  we  read.  He  "was  led 
by  the  Spirit  in  the  wilderness."  The  verb  generally 
implies  pressure,  constraint ;  it  is  the  enforced  leading 
of  the  weaker  by  the  stronger.  In  this  case,  however, 
the  pressure  was  not  upon  a  resisting,  but  a  yielding 
medium.  The  will  of  Jesus  swung  round  instantly 
and  easily,  moving  like  a  vane  only  in  the  direction  of 
the  Higher  Will.  The  narrative  would  imply  that  His 
own  thought  and  purpose  had  been  to  return  to  Galilee ; 
but  the  Divine  Spirit  moves  upon  Him  with  such 
clearness  and  force — "driveth"  is  St.  Mark's  expres- 
sive word — that  He  yields  Himself  up  to  the  higher 
impulse,  and  allows  Himself  to  be  carried,  not  exactly 
as  the  heath  is  swept  before  the  wind,  but  in  a  passive- 
active  way,  into  the  wilderness.  The  wilderness  was 
thus  a  Divine  interjection,  thrown  across  the  path  of 
the  Son  of  God  and  Son  of  man. 

Where  it  was  is  a  point  of  no  great  moment     That 


no  THB  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

it  was  in  the  Desert  of  Sinai,  as  some  suppose,  is  most 
unlikely.  Jesus  did  not  so  venerate  places ;  nor  was 
it  like  Him  to  make  distant  excursions  to  put  Himself 
in  the  track  of  Moses  or  Elijah.  He  beckons  them  to 
Him.  He  does  not  go  to  them,  not  even  to  make 
historical  repetitions.  There  is  no  reason  why  we  may 
not  accept  the  traditional  site  of  the  Quarantania,  the 
wild,  mountainous  region,  intersected  by  deep,  dark 
gorges,  that  sweeps  westward  from  Jericho.  It  is 
enough  to  know  that  it  was  a  wilderness  indeed,  a 
wildness,  unsoftened  by  the  touch  of  human  strength 
or  skill ;  a  still,  vacant  solitude,  where  only  the  "  wild 
beasts,"  preying  upon  each  other,  or  prowling  outward 
to  the  fringe  of  civilization,  could  survive. 

In  the  narrative  of  the  Transfiguration  we  read  that 
Moses  and  Elias  appeared  on  the  holy  mount  "  talking 
with  Jesus ; "  and  that  these  two  only,  of  all  departed 
saints,  should  be  allowed  that  privilege — the  one  repre- 
senting the  Law,  and  the  other  the  Prophets — shows 
that  there  was  some  intimate  connection  between  their 
several  missions.  At  any  rate,  we  know  that  the 
emancipator  and  the  regenerator  of  Israel  were  speci- 
ally commissioned  to  bear  Heaven's  salutation  to  the 
Redeemer.  It  would  be  an  interesting  study,  did  it 
lie  within  the  scope  of  our  subject,  to  trace  out  the 
many  resemblances  between  the  three.  We  may,  how- 
ever, notice  how  in  the  three  lives  the  same  prolonged 
fast  occurs,  in  each  case  covering  the  same  period  of 
forty  days ;  for  though  the  expression  of  St.  Matthew 
would  not  of  necessity  imply  a  total  abstention  from 
food,  the  more  concise  statement  of  St.  Luke  removes 
all  doubt,  for  we  read,  **  He  did  eat  nothing  in  those 
days."  Why  there  should  be  this  fast  is  more  difficult 
to  answer,   and  our  so-called   reasons   can   be  only 


THE   TEMPTATION.  Ill 

guesses.  We  know,  however,  that  the  flesh  and  tht 
spirit,  though  closely  associated,  have  but  few  things 
in  eommon.  Like  the  centripetal  and  the  centrifugal 
forces  in  nature,  their  tendencies  and  propulsions  are 
in  different  and  opposite  directions.  The  one  looks 
earthward,  the  other  heavenward.  Let  the  flesh  prevail, 
and  the  life  gravitates  downwards,  the  sensual  takes 
the  place  of  the  spiritual.  Let  the  flesh  be  placed 
under  restraint  and  control,  taught  its  subordinate 
position,  and  there  is  a  general  uplift  to  the  life,  the 
untrammelled  spirit  moving  upwards  toward  heaven 
and  God.  And  so  in  the  Scriptures  we  find  the  duty 
of  fasting  prescribed;  and  though  the  Rabbis  have 
treated  it  in  an  ad  ahsurdum  fashion,  bringing  it  into 
disrepute,  still  the  duty  has  not  ceased,  though  the 
practice  may  be  well-nigh  obsolete.  And  so  we  find 
in  Apostolic  days  that  prayer  was  often  joined  to  fast- 
ing, especially  when  a  question  of  importance  was  under 
consideration.  The  hours  of  fasting,  too,  as  we  may 
learn  from  the  cases  of  the  centurion  and  of  Peter, 
were  the  perihelion  of  the  Christian  life,  when  it  swung 
up  in  its  nearest  approaches  to  heaven,  getting  amid 
the  circles  of  the  angels  and  of  celestial  visions. 
Possibly  in  the  case  before  us  there  was  such  an 
absorption  of  spirit,  such  rapture  (using  the  word  in  its 
etymological,  rather  than  in  its  derived  meaning),  that 
the  claims  of  the  body  were  utterly  forgotten,  and  its 
ordinary  functions  were  temporarily  suspended;  for 
to  the  spirit  caught  up  into  Paradise  it  matters  little 
whether  in  the  body  or  out  of  it. 

Then,  too,  the  fast  was  closely  related  to  the  tempta- 
tion ;  it  was  the  preparation  for  it.  If  Jesus  is  tempted 
as  the  Son  of  man,  it  must  be  our  humanity,  not  at 
it!  strongesti  but  at  its  weakest     It  must  be  under 


IIS  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

conditions  so  hard,  no  other  man  could  have  them 
harder.  As  an  athlete,  before  the  contest,  trains  up  his 
body,  bringing  each  muscle  and  nerve  to  its  very  best, 
so  Jesus,  before  meeting  the  great  adversary  in  single 
combat,  trains  down  His  body,  reducing  its  physical 
strength,  until  it  touches  the  lowest  point  of  human 
weakness.  And  so,  fighting  the  battle  of  humanity. 
He  gives  the  adversary  every  advantage.  He  allows 
him  choice  of  place,  of  time,  of  weapons  and  conditions, 
80  that  His  victory  may  be  more  complete.  Alone  in 
the  wild,  dreary  solitude,  cut  off  from  all  human 
sympathies,  weak  and  emaciated  with  the  long  fast, 
the  Second  Adam  waits  the  attack  of  the  tempter,  who 
found  the  first  Adam  too  easy  a  prey. 

2.  The  nature  of  the  Temptation.  In  what  form  the 
tempter  came  to  Him,  or  whether  he  ^ame  in  any  form 
at  all,  we  cannot  telL  Scripture  observes  a  prudent 
silence,  a  silence  which  has  been  made  the  occasion  of 
much  speculative  and  random  speech  on  the  part  of 
its  would-be  interpreters.  It  will  serve  no  good  purpose 
even  to  enumerate  the  different  forms  the  tempter  is 
said  to  have  assumed ;  for  what  need  can  there  be  for 
any  incarnation  of  the  evil  spirit?  and  why  clamour 
for  the  supernatural  when  the  natural  will  suffice  ?  If 
Jesus  was  tempted  "  as  we  are,"  will  not  our  experiences 
throw  the  truest  light  on  His?  We  see  no  shape. 
The  evil  one  confronts  us;  he  presents  thoughts  to 
our  minds ;  he  injects  some  proud  or  evil  imagination ; 
but  he  himself  is  masked,  unseen,  even  when  we  are 
distinctly  conscious  of  his  presence.  Just  so  we  may 
suppose  the  tempter  came  to  Him.  Recalling  the 
declaration  made  at  the  baptism,  the  announcement  of 
His  Divine  Sonship,  the  devil  says,  *'If"  (or  rather 
''Since,"   for   the   tempter  is   too  wary  to  suggest  a 


THB   TEMPTATION.  IIJ 

doubt  as  to  His  relationship  with  God)  "Thou  art  the 
Son  of  God,  command  this  stone  that  it  become  bread.' 
It  is  as  if  he  said,  "You  are  a-hungered,  exhausted, 
Your  strength  worn  away  by  Your  long  fast.  This 
desert,  as  You  see,  is  wild  and  sterile ;  it  can  offer  You 
nothing  with  which  to  supply  Your  physical  wants; 
but  You  have  the  remedy  in  Your  own  hands.  The 
heavenly  Voice  proclaimed  You  as  God's  Son — nay.  His 
beloved  Son.  You  were  invested,  too,  not  simply  with 
Divine  dignities,  but  with  Divine  powers,  with  authority, 
supreme  and  absolute,  over  all  creatures.  Make  use 
now  of  this  newly  given  power.  Speak  in  these  newly 
learned  tones  of  Divine  authority,  and  command  this 
stone  that  it  become  bread."  Such  was  the  thought 
suddenly  suggested  to  the  mind  of  Jesus,  and  which 
would  have  found  a  ready  response  from  the  shrinking 
flesh,  had  it  been  allowed  to  speak.  And  was  not  the 
thought  fair  and  reasonable,  to  our  thinking,  all  innocent 
of  wrong  ?  Suppose  Jesus  should  command  the  stone 
into  bread,  is  it  any  more  marvellous  than  commanding 
the  water  into  wine?  Is  not  all  bread  stone,  dead 
earth  transformed  by  the  touch  of  life  ?  If  Jesus  can 
make  use  of  His  miraculous  power  for  the  benefit  of 
others,  why  should  He  not  use  it  in  the  emergencies 
of  His  own  life  ?  The  thought  seemed  reasonable  and 
specious  enough;  and  at  first  glance  we  do  not  see 
how  the  wings  of  this  dove  are  tipped,  not  with  silver, 
but  with  soot  from  the  "  pots."  But  stop.  What  does 
this  thought  of  Satan  mean?  Is  it  as  guileless  and 
guiltless  as  it  seems?  Not  quite;  for  it  means  that 
Jesus  shall  be  no  longer  the  Son  of  man.  Hitherto 
His  life  has  been  a  purely  human  life.  "  Made  in  all 
things  like  unto  His  brethren,"  from  His  helpless 
infancy,  through  the  gleefulness  of  childhood,  the  dis- 

8 


114  THE   GOSPEL   OP  ST.  LUKE, 

cipline  of  youth,  and  the  toil  of  manhood,  His  life 
has  been  nourished  from  purely  human  sources.  His 
"brooks  in  the  way"  have  been  no  secret  springs, 
flowing  for  Himself  alone ;  they  have  been  the  common 
brooks,  open  and  free  to  all,  and  where  any  other  child 
of  man  might  drink.  But  now  Satan  tempts  Him  to 
break  with  the  past,  to  throw  up  His  Son-of-manhood, 
and  to  fall  back  upon  His  miraculous  power  in  this, 
and  so  in  every  other  emergency  of  life.  Had  Satan 
succeeded,  and  had  Jesus  wrought  this  miracle  for 
Himself,  putting  around  His  human  nature  the  shield 
of  His  Divinity,  then  Jesus  would  have  ceased  to  be 
man.  He  would  have  forsaken  the  plane  of  human 
life  for  celestial  altitudes,  with  a  wide  gulf — and  oh,  how 
wide  I — between  Himself  and  those  He  had  come  to 
redeem.  And  let  the  perfect  humanity  go,  and  the 
redemption  goes  with  it;  for  if  Jesus,  just  by  an  appeal 
to  His  miraculous  power,  can  surmount  every  difficulty, 
escape  any  danger,  then  you  leave  no  room  for  the 
Passion,  and  no  ground  on  which  the  cross  may  rest. 
Again,  the  suggestion  of  Satan  was  a  temptation  to 
distrust  The  emphasis  lay  upon  the  title,  "Son  of 
God."  "The  Voice  proclaimed  You,  in  a  peculiar 
sense,  the  beloved  Son  of  God ;  but  where  have  been 
the  marks  of  that  special  love  ?  Where  are  the  honours, 
the  heritage  of  joy,  the  Son  should  have  ?  Instead  of 
that,  He  gives  You  a  wilderness  of  solitude  and  priva- 
tion ;  and  He  who  rained  manna  upon  Israel,  and  who 
sent  an  angel  to  prepare  a  cake  for  Elias,  leaves  You  to 
pine  and  hunger.  Why  wait  longer  for  help  which 
has  already  tarried  too  long  ?  Act  now  fcM*  Yourself. 
Your  resources  are  ample ;  use  them  in  commanding 
this  stone  into  bread."  Such  was  the  drift  of  the 
tempter's   words ;  it   was   to   make   Jesus   doubt  the 


THE   TEMPTATION.  115 


Father's  love  and  care,  to  lead  Him  to  act,  not  in 
opposition  to,  but  independently  of,  the  Father's  will. 
It  was  an  artful  endeavour  to  throw  the  will  of  Jesus 
out  of  gear  with  the  Higher  Will,  and  to  set  it  revolving 
around  its  own  self-centre.  It  was,  in  reality,  the  same 
temptation,  in  a  slightly  altered  form,  which  had  been 
only  too  successful  with  the  first  Adam. 

The  thought,  however,  was  no  sooner  suggested  than 
it  was  rejected ;  for  Jesus  had  a  wonderful  power  of 
reading  thought,  of  looking  into  its  very  heart;  and 
He  meets  the  evil  suggestion,  not  with  an  answer  of 
His  own,  but  with  a  singularly  apt  quotation  from  the 
Old  Testament :  "  It  is  written,  Man  shall  not  live  by 
bread  alone."  The  reference  is  to  a  parallel  experience 
in  the  history  of  Israel,  a  narrative  from  which  doubt- 
less Jesus  had  drawn  both  strength  and  solace  during 
His  prolonged  desert  fast.  Had  not  the  Divine  Voice 
adopted  Israel  to  a  special  relationship  and  privilege, 
announcing  within  the  palace  of  Pharaoh,  "  Israelis  My 
Son,  My  firstborn  "  ?  (Exod.  iv.  22).  And  yet  had  not 
God  led  Israel  for  forty  years  through  the  desert, 
suffering  him  to  hunger,  that  He  might  humble  and 
prove  him,  and  show  him  that  men  are 

"  Better  than  sheep  and  goats, 
That  nourish  a  blind  life  within  the  brain  ;* 

that  man  has  a  nature,  a  life,  that  cannot  live  on  bread, 
but — as  St.  Matthew  completes  the  quotation — ^'by 
every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God  "  ? 
Some  have  supposed  that  by  "  bread  alone "  Jesus 
refers  to  the  manifold  provision  God  has  made  for  man's 
physical  sustenance ;  that  He  is  not  limited  to  one 
course,  but  that  He  can  just  as  easily  supply  flesh,  or 
manna,  or  a  thousand  things  besides.     But  evidently 


lie  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKB, 

such  is  not  the  meaning  of  Jesus.  It  was  not  His 
wont  to  speak  in  such  literal,  commonplace  ways.  His 
thought  moved  in  higher  circles  than  His  speech,  and 
we  must  look  upward  through  the  letter  to  find  the 
higher  spirit.  "  I  have  meat  to  eat  that  ye  know  not 
of,"  said  Jesus  to  His  disciples ;  and  when  He  caught 
the  undertone  of  their  literalistic  questions  He  explained 
His  meaning  in  words  that  will  interpret  His  answer  to 
the  tempter :  "  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that 
sent  Me."  So  now  it  is  as  if  He  said,  "The  Will  of 
God  is  My  meat  That  Will  brought  Me  hither ;  that 
Will  detains  Me  here.  Nay,  that  Will  commands  Me  to 
fast  and  hunger,  and  so  abstinence  from  food  is  itself 
My  food.  I  do  not  fear.  This  wilderness  is  but  the 
stone-paved  court  of  My  Father's  house,  whose  many 
chambers  are  filled  with  treasures,  '  bread  enough  and 
to  spare,'  and  can  I  perish  with  hunger  ?  I  wait  His 
time ;  I  accept  His  will ;  nor  will  I  taste  of  bread  that  is 
not  of  His  sending." 

The  tempter  was  foiled.  The  specious  temptation 
fell  upon  the  mind  of  Jesus  Uke  a  spark  in  the  sea,  to 
be  quenched,  instantly  and  utterly ;  and  though  Satan 
found  a  powerful  lever  in  the  pinch  of  the  terrible 
hunger — one  of  the  sorest  pains  our  human  nature  can 
feel — yet  even  then  he  could  not  wrench  the  will  of 
Jesus  from  the  will  of  God.  The  first  Adam  doubted, 
and  then  disobeyed ;  the  Second  Adam  rests  in  God's 
will  and  word ;  and  like  the  hmpet  on  the  rocks,  washed 
by  angry  waves,  the  pressure  of  the  outward  storm  only 
unites  His  will  more  firmly  to  the  Father's ;  nor  does  it 
for  one  moment  break  in  upon  that  rest  of  soul.  And 
Jesus  never  did  make  use  of  His  miraculous  power 
solely  for  His  own  benefit.  He  would  live  as  a  man 
among  men,  feeling — probably  more  intensely  than  we 


THE    TEMFTATION.  I17 

do — all  the  weaknesses  and  pains  of  humanity,  that  He 
might  be  more  truly  the  Son  of  man,  the  sympathizing 
High  Priest,  the  perfect  Saviour.  He  became  in  all 
points — sin  excepted — one  with  us,  so  that  we  might 
become  one  with  Him,  sharing  with  Him  the  Father's 
love  on  earth,  and  then  sharing  His  heavenly  joys. 

Baffled,  but  not  confessing  himself  beaten,  the  temp- 
ter returns  to  the  charge.  St.  Luke  here  inverts  the 
order  of  St.  Matthew,  giving  as  the  second  tempta- 
tion what  St.  Matthew  places  last.  We  prefer  the 
order  of  St.  Luke,  not  only  because  in  general  he  is 
more  observant  of  chronology,  but  because  there  is  in 
the  three  temptations  what  we  might  call  a  certain 
seriality,  which  demands  the  second  place  for  the 
mountain  temptation.  It  is  not  necessary  that  we  put 
a  literal  stress  upon  the  narrative,  supposing  that  Jesus 
was  transported  bodily  to  the  "  exceeding  high  moun- 
tain." Not  only  has  such  a  supposition  an  air  of  the 
incredulous  about  it,  but  it  is  set  aside  by  the  terms  of 
the  narrative  itself;  for  the  expression  he  ''showed 
Him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  in  a  moment  of 
time"  cannot  be  forced  into  a  literalistic  mould.  It 
is  easier  and  more  natural  to  suppose  that  this  and 
the  succeeding  temptation  were  presented  only  to  the 
spirit  of  Jesus,  without  any  physical  accessories;  for 
after  all,  it  is  not  the  eye  that  sees,  but  the  soul.  The 
bodily  eye  had  not  seen  the  "  great  sheet  let  down  from 
heaven,"  but  it  was  a  real  vision,  nevertheless,  leading 
to  very  practical  results — the  readjustment  of  Peter's 
views  of  duty,  and  the  opening  of  the  door  of  grace  and 
privilege  to  the  Gentiles.  It  was  but  a  mental  picture, 
as  the  "man  of  Macedonia"  appeared  to  Paul,  but 
the  vision  was  intensely  real — more  real,  if  that  were 
possible,  than   the   leagues  of  intervening  sea;   and 


Ii8  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE, 

louder  to  him  than  all  the  voices  of  the  deep — of  winds, 
and  waves,  and  storm — was  the  voice,  *'  Come  over  and 
help  us,"  the  cry  which  only  the  ear  of  the  soul  had 
heard.  It  was  in  a  similar  manner,  probably,  that  the 
second  temptation  was  presented  to  Jesus. 

He  finds  Himself  upon  a  lofty  eminence,  when 
suddenly,  ''in  a  moment  of  time,"  as  St.  Luke  ex- 
presses it,  the  world  lies  unveiled  at  His  feet.  Here 
are  fields  white  with  ripened  harvests,  vineyards  red 
with  clustering  grapes,  groves  of  olives  shimmering  in 
the  sunlight  like  frosted  silver,  rivers  threading  their 
way  through  a  sea  of  green ;  here  are  cities  on  cities 
innumerable,  quivering  with  the  tread  of  uncounted 
millions,  streets  set  with  statues,  and  adorned  with 
temples,  palaces,  and  parks  ;  here  are  the  flagged  Roman 
roads,  all  pointing  to  the  woi  Id's  great  centre,  thronged 
with  chariots  and  horsemen,  the  legions  of  war,  and 
the  caravans  of  trade.  Beyond  are  seas  where  a  thou- 
sand ships  are  skimming  over  the  blue;  while  still 
beyond,  all  environed  with  temples,  is  the  palace  of 
the  Caesars,  the  marble  pivot  around  which  the  world 
revolves. 

Such  was  the  splendid  scene  set  betore  the  mind  of 
Jesus.  '*  All  this  is  mine,"  said  Satan,  speaking  a  half- 
truth  which  is  often  but  a  whole  lie ;  for  he  was  indeed 
the  "  prince  of  the  power  of  the  air,"  ruling,  however, 
not  in  absolute  kingship,  but  as  a  pretender,  a  usurper ; 
"  and  I  give  it  to  whom  I  will.  Only  worship  me  (or 
rather,  *  do  homage  to  me  as  Your  superior '),  and  all 
shall  be  thine."  Amplified,  the  temptation  was  this: 
"You  are  the  Son  of  God,  the  Messiah- King,  but  a 
King  without  a  retinue,  without  a  throne.  I  know  well 
all  the  devious,  somewhat  slippery  ways  to  royalty ;  and 
if  You  will  but  assent  to  my  plan,  and  work  on  my  lines. 


THE    TEMPTATION.  II9 

I  can  assure  You  of  a  throne  that  is  higher,  and  of  a 
realm  that  is  vaster,  than  that  of  Caesar.  To  begin 
with :  You  have  powers  not  given  to  other  mortals, 
miraculous  powers.  You  can  command  nature  as  easily 
as  You  can  obey  her.  Trade  with  these  at  first,  freely. 
Startle  men  with  prodigies,  and  so  create  a  name  and 
gam  a  following.  Then  when  that  is  sufficiently  large 
set  up  the  standard  of  revolt.  The  priesthood  and  the 
people  will  flock  to  it ;  Pharisees  and  Sadducees,  giving 
up  their  paper-chases  after  phantoms,  shadows,  will 
forget  their  strife  in  the  peace  of  a  common  war,  and 
before  a  united  people  Rome's  legions  must  retire. 
Then,  pushing  out  Your  borders,  and  avoiding  reverse 
and  disaster  by  a  continual  appeal  to  Your  miraculous 
powers,  one  after  another  You  will  make  the  neigh- 
bouring nations  dependent  and  tributary.  So,  little  by 
little.  You  will  hem  in  the  might  of  Rome,  until  by  one 
desperate  struggle  You  will  vanquish  the  Empire.  The 
lines  of  history  will  then  be  all  reversed.  Jerusalem 
will  become  the  mistress,  the  capital  of  the  world; 
along  all  these  roads  swift  messengers  shall  carry  Your 
decrees ;  Your  word  shall  be  law,  and  Your  will  over 
all  human  wills  shall  be  supreme." 

Such  was  the  meaning  of  the  second  temptation. 
It  was  the  chord  of  ambition  Satan  sought  to  strike, 
a  chord  whose  vibrations  are  so  powerful  in  the  human 
heart,  often  drowning  or  deafening  other  and  sweeter 
voices.  He  put  before  Jesus  the  highest  possible  goal, 
that  of  universal  empire,  and  showed  how  that  goal 
was  comparatively  easy  of  attainment,  if  Jesus  would 
only  follow  his  directions  and  work  on  his  plans.  1  he 
objective  point  at  which  the  tempter  aimed  was,  as 
in  the  first  temptation,  to  shift  Jesus  from  the  Divine 
purposCi  to  detach  His   will    from   the   Father's  will, 


110  THB  GOSPEL  OF  ST,   LUKR. 

and  to  induce  Him  to  set  up  a  sort  of  independence. 
The  life  of  Jesus,  instead  of  moving  on  steadily  around 
its  Divine  centre,  striking  in  with  absolute  precision 
to  the  beat  of  the  Divine  purpose,  should  revolve  only 
around  the  centre  of  its  narrower  self,  exchanging 
its  grander,  heavenlier  sweep  for  certain  intermittent, 
eccentric  motions  of  its  own.  If  Satan  could  not  pre- 
vent the  founding  of  "the  kingdom,"  he  would,  if  it 
were  possible,  change  its  character.  It  should  not  be 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but  a  kingdom  of  earth,  pure 
and  simple,  under  earthly  conditions  and  earthly  laws. 
Might  should  take  the  place  of  right,  and  force  the 
place  of  love.  He  would  set  Jesus  after  gaining  the 
whole  world,  that  so  He  might  forget  that  His  mission 
was  to  save  it.  Instead  of  a  Saviour,  they  should 
have  a  Sovereign,  decked  with  this  world's  glory  and 
the  pomps  of  earthly  empire. 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  if  Jesus  had  been  merely  man 
the  temptation  would  have  been  most  subtle  and  most 
powerful;  for  how  many  of  the  sons  of  men,  alas, 
have  been  led  astray  from  the  Divine  purpose  with  a 
far  less  bait  than  a  whole  world !  A  momentary 
pleasure,  a  handful  of  glittering  dust  the  more,  some 
dream  of  place  or  fame — these  are  more  than  enough 
to  tempt  men  to  break  with  God.  But  while  Jesus  was 
man,  the  Perfect  Man,  He  was  more.  The  Holy  Spirit 
was  now  given  to  Him  without  measure.  From  the 
beginning  His  will  had  been  subordinate  to  the  Father's, 
growing  up  within  it  and  configuring  itself  to  it,  even 
as  the  ductile  metal  receives  the  shape  of  the  mould. 
The  Divine  purpose,  too,  had  now  been  revealed  to 
Him  in  the  vivid  enlightenment  of  the  Baptism ;  for  the 
shadow  of  the  crosa  was  thrown  back  over  His  Ufe, 
at  any  rate  as  far  as  the  Jordan.     And  so  the  second 


THB   TEMPTATION,  Ml 

temptation  fell  harmless  as  the  first  The  chord  of 
ambition  Satan  sought  to  strike  was  not  found  in 
the  pure  soul  of  Jesus,  and  all  these  visions  of  victory 
and  empire  awoke  no  response  in  His  heart,  any  more 
than  the  flower-wreaths  laid  upon  the  breast  of  the 
dead  can  quicken  the  beat  of  the  now  silent  heart 

The  answer  of  Jesus  was  prompt  and  decisive.  Not 
deigning  to  use  any  words  of  His  own,  or  to  hold  any 
parley,  even  the  shortest.  He  meets  the  word  of  the 
tempter  with  a  Divine  word  :  "  It  is  written,  Thou 
shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him  only  shalt 
thou  serve."  The  tempting  thought  is  something 
foreign  to  the  mind  of  Jesus,  something  unwelcome, 
repulsive,  and  it  is  rejected  instantly.  Instead  of 
allowing  Himself  to  be  diverted  from  the  Divine 
purpose.  His  will  detached  from  the  Father's  will.  He 
turns  to  that  will  and  word  at  once.  It  is  His  refuge, 
His  home.  The  thought  of  Jesus  cannot  pass  beyond 
the  circle  of  that  will,  any  more  than  a  dove  can  pass 
beyond  the  over-arching  sky.  He  sees  the  Throne 
that  is  above  all  thrones,  and  gazing  upon  that,  worship- 
ping only  the  Great  King,  who  is  over  all  and  in  all, 
the  thrones  and  crowns  of  earthly  dominion  are  but  as 
motes  of  the  air.  The  victory  was  complete.  Quickly 
as  it  came,  the  splendid  vision  conjured  up  by  the 
tempter  disappeared,  and  Jesus  turned  away  from  the 
path  of  earthly  glory,  where  power  without  measure 
and  honours  without  number  awaited  Him,  to  tread 
the  solitary,  lowly  path  of  submission  and  of  sacrifice, 
the  path  that  had  a  crucifixion,  and  not  a  coronation 
as  its  goal. 

Twice  baffled,  the  enemy  comes  once  again  to  the 
charge,  completing  the  series  with  the  pinnacle  temp- 
tation, to  which  St.  Luke  naturally,  and  as  we  think 


las  7 HE  GOSPEL   OF  ST,   LUKE. 

rightly,  gives  the  third  place.  It  follows  the  other 
two  in  orderly  sequence,  and  it  cannot  well  be  placed 
second,  as  in  St.  Matthew,  without  a  certain  over- 
lapping of  thought.  If  we  must  adhere  to  the  litera- 
listic  interpretation,  and  suppose  Jesus  led  up  to 
Jerusalem  bodily,  then,  perhaps,  St.  Matthew's  order 
would  be  more  natural,  as  that  would  not  necessitate 
a  return  to  the  wilderness.  But  that  is  an  interpreta- 
tion to  which  we  are  not  bound.  Neither  the  words 
of  the  narrative  nor  the  conditions  of  the  temptation 
require  it ;  an  d  when  art  represents  Jesus  as  flying 
with  the  tempter  through  the  air  it  is  a  representation 
both  grotesque  and  gratuitous.  Thus  far,  in  his  tempta- 
tions, Satan  has  been  foiled  by  the  faith  of  Jesus,  the 
implicit  trust  He  reposed  in  the  Father ;  but  if  he 
cannot  break  in  upon  that  trust,  causing  it  to  doubt 
or  disobey,  may  he  not  push  the  virtue  too  far,  goading 
Him  "  to  sin  in  loving  virtue "  ?  If  the  mind  and 
heart  of  Jesus  are  so  grooved  in  with  the  lines  of  the 
Divine  will  that  he  cannot  throw  them  off  the  metals, 
or  make  them  reverse  their  wheels,  perhaps  he  may 
push  them  forward  so  fast  and  so  far  as  to  bring  about 
the  collision  he  seeks — the  clash  of  the  two  wills.  It 
is  the  only  chance  left  him,  a  forlorn  hope,  it  is  true, 
but  still  a  hope,  and  Satan  moves  forward,  if  per- 
chance he  may  realize  it. 

As  in  the  second  temptation,  the  wilderness  fades 
out  of  sight.  Suddenly  Jesus  finds  Himself  standing 
on  the  pinnacle  of  the  Temple,  probably  the  eastern 
corner  of  the  royal  portico.  On  the  one  side,  deep 
below,  were  the  Temple  courts,  crowded  with  throngs 
of  worshippers;  on  the  other  lay  the  gorge  of  the 
Kedron,  a  giddy  depth,  which  made  the  eye  of  the 
down  looker  to  swim,  and  the  brain  to  reei     '*  If  (or 


THE   TEMt'TATION.  123 

rather  *  Since ')  said  Satan,  Thou  art  the  Son  of  God, 
cast  Thyself  down  from  hence ;  for  it  is  written,  He 
shall  give  His  angels  charge  concerning  Thee,  to  guard 
Thee ;  on  their  hands  they  shall  bear  Thee  up,  lest 
haply  Thou  dash  Thy  foot  against  a  stone."  It  is  as 
if  he  said,  "You  are  the  Son  of  God,  in  a  special, 
favoured  sense.  You  are  set  in  title  and  authority 
above  the  angels  ;  they  are  Your  ministering  servants  ; 
and  You  reciprocate  the  trust  Heaven  reposes  in  You. 
The  will  of  God  is  more  to  You  than  life  itself ;  the 
word  of  God  outweighs  with  You  thrones  and  empires. 
And  You  do  well.  Continue  thus,  and  no  harm  can 
overtake  You.  And  just  to  show  how  absolute  is  Your 
faith  in  God,  cast  Yourself  down  from  this  height.  You 
need  not  fear,  for  You  will  but  throw  Yourself  upon 
the  word  of  God ;  and  You  have  only  to  speak,  and 
unseen  angels  will  crowd  the  air,  bearing  You  up  in 
their  hands.  Cast  Yourself  down,  and  so  test  and 
attest  Your  faith  in  God  ;  and  doing  so  You  will  give 
to  these  multitudes  indubitable  proof  of  Your  Sonship 
and  Messiahship."  Such  was  the  argument,  specious, 
but  fallacious,  of  the  tempter.  Misquoting  Scripture  by 
omitting  its  qualifying  clause,  distorting  the  truth  into 
a  dangerous  error,  he  sought  to  impale  his  Victim  on 
the  horn  of  a  dilemma.  But  Jesus  was  on  the  alert. 
He  recognized  at  once  the  seductive  thought,  though, 
Jacob-like,  it  had  come  robed  in  the  assumed  dress  of 
Scripture.  Is  not  obedience  as  sacred  as  trust?  Is 
not  obedience  the  life,  the  soul  of  trust,  without  which 
the  trust  itself  is  but  a  semblance,  a  decaying,  corrupt 
thing  ?  But  Satan  asks  Him  to  disobey,  to  set  Him- 
self above  the  laws  by  which  the  world  is  governed. 
Instead  of  His  will  being  entirely  subordinate,  conform- 
ing itstlf  in  all  things  to  the  Divine  will,  if  He  should 


J 24  THE   GOSPEL    OF  ST.   LUKE. 

cast  Himself  down  from  this  pinnacle  it  would  be 
putting  pressure  upon  that  Divine  will,  forcing  it  to 
repeal  its  own  physical  laws,  or  at  any  rate  to  suspend 
their  action  for  a  time.  And  what  would  that  be  but 
insubordination,  no  longer  faith,  but  presumption,  a 
tempting,  and  not  a  trusting  God  ?  The  Divine 
promises  are  not  cheques  made  payable  to  "  bearer," 
regardless  of  character,  place,  or  time,  and  to  be  realized 
by  any  one  who  may  happen  to  possess  himself  of  them, 
anywhere.  They  are  cheques  drawn  out  to  "  order," 
crossed  cheques,  too,  negotiated  only  as  the  conditions 
of  character  and  time  are  fulfilled.  The  Divine  protec- 
tion and  guardianship  are  indeed  assured  to  every  child 
of  God,  but  only  as  he  "  dwelleth  in  the  secret  place 
of  the  Most  High,  as  he  abides  under  the  shadow  of 
the  Almighty  ; "  in  other  words,  so  long  as  '*  thy  ways  " 
are  "  His  ways."  Step  out  from  that  pavilion  of  the 
Most  High,  and  you  step  from  under  the  bright  bow 
of  promise.  Put  yourself  above,  or  put  yourself  out 
of,  the  Divine  order  of  things,  and  the  very  promise 
becomes  a  threatening,  and  the  cloud  that  else  would 
protect  and  guide  becomes  a  cloud  full  of  suppressed 
thunders,  and  flashing  in  vivid  lightnings  its  thousand 
swords  of  flame.  Faith  and  fidelity  are  thus  insepa- 
rable. The  one  is  the  calyx,  the  other  the  involved 
corolla;  and  as  they  open  outwards  into  the  perfect 
flower  they  turn  towards  the  Divine  will,  configuring 
themselves  in  all  things  to  that  will. 

A  third  time  Jesus  replied  to  the  tempter  in 
words  of  Old  Testament  Scripture,  and  a  third  time^ 
too,  from  the  same  book  of  Deuteronomy.  It  will  be 
observed,  however,  that  the  terms  of  His  reply  are 
slightly  altered  He  no  longer  uses  the  '*  It  is  written," 
since  Satan  himself  has  borrowed  that  word,  but  sub- 


THB  TEMPTATION,  i%$ 


stitutes  another :  "  It  is  said,  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the 
Lord  thy  God."  It  has  been  thought  by  some  that 
Jesus  used  the  quotation  in  an  accommodated  sense, 
referring  the  "  Thou "  to  the  tempter  himself,  and  so 
making  "  the  Lord  thy  God  "  an  attestation  of  His  own 
Divinity.  But  such  an  interpretation  is  forced  and 
unnatural.  Jesus  would  not  be  likely  to  hide  the  deep 
secret  from  His  own  disciples,  and  announce  it  for  the 
first  time  to  the  ears  of  the  seducer.  It  is  an  impos- 
sible supposition.  Besides,  too,  it  was  as  man  that 
Jesus  was  tempted.  Only  on  the  side  of  His  humanity 
could  the  enemy  approach  Him,  and  for  Jesus  now  to 
take  refuge  in  His  Divinity  would  strip  the  temptation 
of  all  its  meaning,  making  it  a  mere  acting.  But  Jesus 
does  not  so  throw  up  humanity,  or  which  is  the  same 
thing,  take  Himself  out  of  it,  and  when  He  says, 
"  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God  "  He  includes 
Himself  in  the  "  thou."  Son  though  He  is.  He  must 
put  Himself  under  the  law  that  prescribes  the  relations 
of  man  towards  God.  He  must  learn  obedience  as 
other  sons  of  men.  He  must  submit,  that  He  may 
serve,  not  seeking  to  impose  His  will  upon  the  Father's 
will,  even  by  way  of  suggestion,  much  less  by  way  of 
demand,  but  waiting  upon  that  will  in  an  absolute 
self-surrender  and  instant  acquiescence.  Moses  must 
not  command  the  cloud  ;  all  that  he  is  permitted  to 
do  is  to  observe  it  and  follow.  To  go  before  God  is 
to  go  without  God,  and  to  go  without  Him  is  to  go 
against  Him ;  and  as  to  the  angels  bearing  Him  up  in 
their  hands,  that  depends  altogether  upon  the  path  and 
the  errand.  Let  it  be  the  Divinely  ordered  path,  and 
the  unseen  convoys  of  heaven  will  attend,  a  sleepless, 
invincible  guard ;  but  let  it  be  some  self-chosen  path, 
some  forbidden  way,  and  the  angel's  sword  will  flash 


f26  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

its  warning,  and  send  the  foot  of  the  unfaithful  servant 
crushing  against  the  wall. 

And  so  the  third  temptation  failed,  as  did  the  other 
two.  With  but  a  little  tension,  Satan  had  made  the  will 
of  the  first  Adam  to  strike  a  discordant  note,  throwing 
it  out  of  all  harmony  with  the  Higher  Will ;  but  by  no 
pressure,  no  enticements,  can  he  influence  the  Second 
Adam.  His  will  vibrates  in  a  perfect  consonance  with 
the  Father's,  even  under  the  terrible  pressure  of 
hunger,  and  the  more  terrible  pressure,  the  fearful 
impact  of  evil. 

So  Satan  completed,  and  so  Jesus  resisted,  "every 
temptation " — that  is,  every  form  of  temptation.  In 
the  first,  Jesus  was  tempted  on  the  side  of  His  physical 
nature;  in  the  second  the  attack  was  on  the  side  of 
His  intellectual  nature,  looking  out  on  His  political 
life ;  while  in  the  third  the  assault  was  on  the  side  of 
His  spiritual  life.  In  the  first  He  is  tempted  as  the 
Man,  in  the  second  as  the  Messiah,  and  in  the  third  as 
the  Divine  Son.  In  the  first  temptation  He  is  asked 
to  make  use  of  His  newly  received  miraculous  power 
over  nature — passive,  unthinking  nature  ;  in  the  second 
He  is  asked  to  throw  it  over  the  "  world,"  which  in 
this  case  is  a  synonym  for  humankind ;  while  in  the 
third  He  is  asked  to  widen  the  realm  of  His  authority, 
and  to  command  the  angels,  nay,  God  Himself.  So 
the  three  temptations  are  really  one,  though  the  fields 
of  battle  lie  in  three  several  planes.  And  the  aim  was 
one.  It  was  to  create  a  divergence  between  the  two 
wills,  and  to  set  the  Son  in  a  sort  of  antagonism  to  the 
Father,  which  would  have  been  another  Absalom  revolt, 
a  Divine  mutiny  it  is  impossible  for  is  even  to 
conceive. 

St.    Luke    omits   in   his   narrative   the   ministry   of 


THE    TEMPTATION.  127 

angels  mentioned  by  the  other  two  Synoptists,  a  sweet 
postlude  we  should  have  missed  much,  had  it  been 
wanting;  but  he  gives  us  instead  the  retreat  of  the 
adversary :  "  He  departed  from  Him  for  a  season." 
How  long  a  season  it  was  we  do  not  know,  but  a 
brief  one  it  must  have  been,  for  again  and  again  in 
the  story  of  the  Gospels  we  see  the  dark  shadow  of 
the  evil  one ;  while  in  Gethsemane  the  "  prince  of 
this  world "  cometh,  but  to  find  nothing  in  "  Me." 
And  what  was  the  horror  of  great  darkness,  that 
strange  eclipse  of  soul  Jesus  suffered  upon  Calvary, 
but  the  same  fearful  presence,  intercepting  for  a  time 
even  the  Father's  smile,  and  throwing  upon  the  pure 
and  patient  Sufferer  a  strip  of  the  outer  darkness  itself? 
The  test  was  over.  Tried  in  the  fires  of  a  persistent 
assault,  the  faith  and  obedience  of  Jesus  were  found 
perfect.  The  shafts  of  the  tempter  had  recoiled  upon 
himself,  leaving  all  stainless  and  scatheless  the  pure 
soul  of  Jesus.  The  Son  of  man  had  conquered,  that 
all  other  sons  of  men  may  learn  the  secret  of  constant 
and  complete  victory ;  how  faith  overcomes,  putting  to 
flight  "  the  armies  of  the  aliens,"  and  making  even  the 
weakest  child  of  God  "  more  than  conqueror."  And 
from  the  wilderness,  where  innocence  has  ripened  into 
virtue,  Jesus  passes  up,  like  another  Moses,  "  in  the 
power  of  the  Spirit,"  to  challenge  the  world's  magi- 
cians, to  baffle  their  sleight  of  hand  and  skill  of  speech, 
and  to  proclaim  to  redeemed  humanity  a  new  Exodus 
a  life-long  Jubilee. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
THB  GOSPEL  OF  THE  JUBILEE. 

IMMEDIATELY  after  the  Temptation  Jesus  returned, 
"in  the  power  of  the  Spirit,"  and  with  all  the 
added  strength  of  His  recent  victories,  to  Galilee.  Into 
what  parts  of  Galilee  He  came,  our  Evangelist  does 
not  say ;  but  omitting  the  visit  to  Cana,  and  dismissing 
the  first  Galilean  tour  with  a  sentence — how  "  He 
taught  in  their  synagogues,  being  glorified  of  all " — 
St  Luke  goes  on  to  record  in  detail  the  visit  of  Jesus 
to  Nazareth,  and  His  rejection  by  His  townsmen.  In 
putting  this  narrative  in  the  forefront  of  his  Gospel  is 
St.  Luke  committing  a  chronological  error  ?  or  is  he, 
as  some  suppose,  purposely  antedating  the  Nazareth 
8tor>',  that  it  may  stand  as  a  frontispiece  to  his  Gospel, 
or  that  it  may  serve  as  a  key  for  the  after-music? 
This  is  the  view  held  by  most  of  our  expositors  and 
harmonists,  but,  as  it  appears  to  us,  on  insufficient 
grounds  ;  the  balance  of  probability  is  against  it.  It 
is  true  that  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  record  a  visit  o 
Nazareth  which  evidently  occurred  at  a  later  period  of 
His  ministry.  It  is  true  also  that  between  their  narra- 
tives and  this  of  St.  Luke  there  are  some  striking 
resemblances,  such  as  the  teaching  in  the  synagogue 
the  astonishment  of  His  hearers,  their  reference  to  His 
parentage,  and  then  the  reply  of  Jesus  as  to  a  prophet 
receiving  scant  honour  in   his  own  country — resem- 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  THE  JUBILEE,  129 

blances  which  would  seem  to  indicate  that  the  two 
narratives  were  in  reality  one.  But  still  it  is  possible 
to  push  these  resemblances  too  far,  reading  out  from 
them  what  we  have  first  read  into  them.  Let  us  for 
the  moment  suppose  that  Jesus  made  two  visits  to 
Nazareth  ;  and  is  not  such  a  supposition  both  reasonable 
and  natural  ?  It  is  not  necessary  that  the  first  rejection 
should  be  a  final  rejection,  for  did  not  the  Jews  seek 
again  and  again  to  kill  Ilim,  before  the  cross  saw  their 
dire  purpose  realized?  Remaining  for  so  long  in 
Galilee,  would  it  not  be  a  most  natural  wish  on  the 
part  of  Jesus  to  see  the  home  of  His  boyhood  once 
again,  and  to  give  to  His  townspeople  one  parting  word 
before  taking  His  farewell  of  Galilee  ?  And  suppose 
He  did,  what  then  ?  Would  He  not  naturally  go  to 
the  synagogue — as  was  His  custom  in  every  place — 
and  speak  ?  And  would  they  not  listen  with  the  same 
astonishment,  and  then  harp  on  the  very  same  questions 
as  to  His  parentage  and  brotherhood — questions  that 
would  have  their  readiest  and  fittest  answer  in  the 
same  familiar  proverb  ?  Instead,  then,  of  these  resem- 
blances identifying  the  two  narratives,  and  proving  that 
St.  Luke's  story  is  but  an  amplification  of  the  narratives 
of  the  other  Synoptists,  the  resemblances  themselves 
are  what  we  might  naturally  expect  in  our  supposition 
of  a  second  visit.  But  if  there  are  certain  coincidences 
between  the  two  narratives,  there  are  marked  differ- 
ences, which  make  it  extremely  improbable  that  the 
Synoptists  are  recording  one  event.  In  the  visit  re- 
corded by  St.  Luke  there  were  no  miracles  wrought; 
while  St  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  tell  us  that  He  could 
not  do  many  mighty  works  there,  because  of  their 
unbelief,  but  that  He  "  laid  His  hands  on  a  few  sick 
folk,  and  healed  them."     In  the  narrative  by  St.  Mark 

9 


130  THE   GOSPEL   OP  ST.  LUKE. 

we  read  that  His  disciples  were  with  Him  while  St. 
Luke  makes  no  mention  of  His  disciples  ;  but  St.  Luke 
does  mention  the  tragic  ending  of  the  visit,  the  attempt 
of  the  men  of  Nazareth  to  hurl  Him  down  from  a  lofty 
cliff,  an  incident  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  omit  alto- 
gether. But  can  we  suppose  the  men  of  Nazareth 
would  have  attempted  this,  had  the  strong  body-guard 
of  disciples  been  with  Jesus  ?  Would  they  be  likely 
to  stand  by,  timidly  acquiescent  ?  Would  not  Peter's 
sword  have  flashed  instantly  from  its  scabbard,  in 
defence  of  Him  whom  he  served  and  dearly  loved  ? 
That  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  should  make  no  refer- 
ence to  this  scene  of  violence,  had  it  occurred  at  the 
visit  they  record,  is  strange  and  unaccountable;  and 
the  omission  is  certainly  an  indication,  if  not  a  proof, 
that  the  Synoptists  are  describing  two  separate  visits 
to  Nazareth — the  one,  as  narrated  by  St.  Luke,  at  the 
commencement  of  His  ministry;  and  the  other  at  a  later 
date,  probably  towards  its  close.  And  with  this  view 
the  substance  of  the  Nazareth  address  perfectly  accords. 
The  whole  address  has  the  ring  of  an  inaugural  mes- 
sage ;  it  is  the  voice  of  an  opening  spring,  and  not  of  a 
waning  summer.  '*  This  day  is  this  Scripture  fulfilled 
in  your  ears "  is  the  blast  of  the  silver  trumpet 
announcing  the  beginning  of  the  Messianic  year,  the 
year  of  a  truer,  wider  Jubilee. 

It  seems  to  us,  therefore,  that  the  chronology  of  St. 
Luke  is  perfectly  correct,  as  he  places  in  the  forefront 
of  his  Gospel  the  earlier  visit  to  Nazareth,  and  the 
violent  treatment  Jesus  there  received.  At  the  second 
visit  there  was  still  a  widespread  unbelief,  which  caused 
Jesus  to  marvel ;  but  there  was  no  attempt  at  violence, 
for  His  disciples  were  with  Him  now,  while  the  report 
of  His  Judaean  ministry,  which  had  gone  before  Him, 


THB  GOSPEL  OF  THE  JUBILEE,  131 

and  the  miracles  He  wrought  in  their  presence,  had 
softened  down  even  Nazareth  prejudices  and  asperities. 
The  events  of  the  first  GaHlean  tour  were  probably  in 
the  following  order.  Jesus,  with  His  five  disciples, 
goes  to  Cana,  invited  guests  at  the  marriage,  and  here 
He  opens  His  miraculous  commission,  by  turning  the 
water  into  wine.  From  Cana  they  proceed  to  Caper- 
naum, where  they  remain  for  a  short  time,  Jesus 
preaching  in  their  synagogue,  and  probably  continuing 
His  miraculous  works.  Leaving  His  disciples  behind 
at  Capernaum — for  between  the  preliminary  call  by 
the  Jordan  and  the  final  call  by  the  lake  the  fisher- 
disciples  get  back  to  their  old  occupations  for  a  while 
— ^Jesus  goes  up  to  Nazareth,  with  His  mother  and 
His  brethren.  Thence,  after  His  violent  rejection,  He 
returns  to  Capernaum,  where  He  calls  His  disciples 
from  their  boats  and  receipt  of  custom,  probably  com- 
pleting the  sacred  number  before  setting  out  on  His 
journey  southward  to  Jerusalem.  If  this  harmony  be 
correct — and  the  weight  of  probabihty  seems  to  be  in 
its  favour — then  the  address  at  Nazareth,  which  is  the 
subject  for  our  consideration  now,  would  be  the  first 
recorded  utterance  of  Jesus ;  for  thus  far  Cana  gives 
us  one  startling  miracle,  while  in  Capernaum  we  find 
the  report  of  His  acts,  rather  than  the  echoes  of  His 
words.  And  that  St.  Luke  alone  should  give  us  this 
incident,  recording  it  in  such  a  graphic  manner,  would 
almost  imply  that  he  had  received  the  account  from  an 
eye-witness,  probably — if  we  may  gather  anything  from 
the  Nazarene  tone  of  St.  Luke's  earlier  pages — from 
•ome  member  of  the  Holy  Family. 

Jesus  has  now  fairly  embarked  upon  His  Messianic 
mission,  and  He  begins  that  mission,  as  prophecy  had 
long   foretold   He  should,  in  Galilee  of  the   Gentiles. 


I3»  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST,   LUKE. 

The  rumour  of  His  wonderful  deeds  at  Cana  and 
Capernaum  had  already  preceded  Him  thither,  when 
Jesus  came  once  again  to  the  home  of  His  childhood 
and  youth.  Going,  as  had  been  His  custom  from 
boyhood,  into  the  synagogue  on  the  Sabbath  day 
(St  Luke  is  writing  for  Gentiles  who  are  unversed 
in  Jewish  customs),  Jesus  stood  up  to  read.  "The 
Megilloth,"  or  Book  of  the  Prophets,  having  been 
handed  to  Him,  He  unrolled  the  book,  and  read  the 
passage  in  Isaiah  (Ixi.  i)  to  which  His  mind  had  been 
Divinely  directed,  or  which  He  had  purposely  chosen  : — 

**The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  Me, 
Because  He  anointed  Me  to  preach  good  tidings  to  the  poor, 
He  hath  sent  Me  to  proclaim  release  to  the  captives, 
And  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind, 
To  set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised, 
To  proclaim  the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord.* 

Then  closing,  or  rolling  up,  the  book,  and  handing 
it  back  to  the  attendant,  Jesus  sat  down,  and  began 
His  discourse.  The  Evangelist  does  not  record  any  of 
the  former  part  of  the  discourse,  but  simply  gives  us 
the  effect  produced,  in  the  riveted  gaze  and  the  rising 
astonishment  of  His  auditors,  as  they  caught  up  eagerly 
His  sweet  and  gracious  words.  Doubtless,  He  would 
explain  the  words  of  the  prophet,  first  in  their  literal, 
and  then  in  their  prophetic  sense;  and  so  far  He 
carried  the  hearts  of  His  hearers  with  Him,  for  who 
could  speak  of  their  Messianic  hopes  without  awaking 
sweet  music  in  the  Hebrew  heart  ?  But  directly  Jesus 
applies  the  passage  to  Himself,  and  says,  "This  day 
is  this  Scripture  fulfilled  in  your  ears,"  the  fashion 
of  their  countenance  alters;  the  Divine  emphasis  He 
puts  upon  the  Me  curdles  in  their  heart,  turning  their 
pleasure  and   wonder   into   incredulity,   envy,   and    a 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  THE  JUBILEE.  133 

perfect  frenzy  of  rage.  The  primary  reference  of  the 
prophecy  seems  to  have  been  to  the  return  of  Israel 
from  captivity.  It  was  a  political  Jubilee  he  pro- 
claimed, when  Zion  should  have  a  "  garland  for  ashes," 
when  the  captive  should  be  free,  and  aliens  should  be 
their  servants.  But  the  flowers  of  Scripture  are  mostly 
double ;  its  pictures  and  parables  have  often  a  nearer 
meaning,  and  another  more  remote,  or  a  spiritual, 
involved  in  the  literal  sense.  That  it  was  so  here  is 
evident,  for  Jesus  takes  this  Scripture — which  we 
might  call  a  Babylonish  garment,  woven  out  of  the  Exile 
— and  wraps  it  around  Himself,  as  if  it  belonged  to 
Himself  alone,  and  were  so  intended  from  the  very  first 
His  touch  thus  invests  it  with  a  new  significance ;  and 
making  this  Scripture  a  vestment  for  Himself,  Jesus, 
80  to  speak,  shakes  out  its  narrower  folds,  and  gives  it 
a  wider,  an  eternal  meaning.  But  why  should  Jesus 
select  this  passage  above  all  others?  Were  not  the 
Old  Testament  Scriptures  full  of  types,  and  shadows, 
and  prophecies  which  testified  of  Him,  any  one  of 
which  He  might  have  appropriated  now?  Yes,  but 
no  other  passage  so  completely  answered  His  design, 
no  other  was  so  clearly  and  fully  declarative  of  His 
earthly  mission.  And  so  Jesus  selected  this  picture  of 
Isaiah,  which  was  at  once  a  prophecy  and  an  epitome 
of  His  own  Gospel,  as  His  inaugural  message,  His 
manifesto. 

The  Mosaic  Code,  in  its  play  upon  the  temporal 
octaves,  had  made  provision,  not  only  for  a  weekly 
Sabbath,  and  for  a  Sabbath  year,  but  it  completed  its 
cycle  of  festivals  by  setting  apart  each  fiftieth  year  as 
a  year  of  special  grace  and  gladness.  It  was  the  year 
of  redemption  and  restoration,  when  all  debts  were 
remitted,  when  the  family  inheritance,  which  by  the 


134  THE   GOSPEL    OF  ST.   LUKE. 

pressure  of  the  times  had  been  alienated,  reverted  to  its 
original  owner,  and  when  those  who  had  mortgaged 
their  personal  liberty  regained  their  freedom.  The 
"  Jubilee  "  year,  as  they  called  it — putting  into  its  name 
the  play  of  the  priestly  trumpets  which  ushered  it  in — 
was  thus  the  Divine  safeguard  against  monopolies,  a 
Divine  provision  for  a  periodic  redistribution  of  the 
wealth  and  privileges  of  the  theocracy;  while  at  the  same 
time  it  served  to  keep  intact  the  separate  threads  of 
family  life,  running  its  lines  of  lineage  down  through  the 
centuries,  and  across  into  the  New  Testament.  Seizing 
upon  this,  the  gladdest  festival  of  Hebrew  life,  Jesus 
likens  Himself  to  one  of  the  priests,  who  with  trumpet 
of  silver  proclaims  *'  the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord." 
He  finds  in  that  Jubilee  a  type  of  His  Messianic  year, 
a  year  that  shall  bring,  not  to  one  chosen  race  alone, 
but  to  a  world  of  debtors  and  captives,  remissions  and 
manumissions  without  number,  ushering  in  an  era  of 
liberty  and  gladness.  And  so  in  these  words,  adapted 
and  adopted  from  Isaiah,  Jesus  announces  Himself  as 
the  world's  Evangelist,  and  Healer,  and  Emancipator; 
or  separating  the  general  message  into  its  prismatic 
colours,  we  have  the  three  characteristics  of  Christ's 
Gospel — (i)  as  the  Gospel  of  Love;  (2)  the  Gospel  of 
Light ;  and  (3)  the  Gospel  of  Liberty. 

I.  The  Gospel  of  Jesus  was  the  Gospel  of  Love. 
'*  He  anointed  Me  to  preach  good  tidings  to  the  poor." 
That  there  is  a  Gospel  even  in  the  Old  Testament  no 
one  will  attempt  to  deny,  and  able  writers  have  delighted 
in  tracing  out  the  evangelism  that,  Uke  hidden  veins 
of  gold,  runs  here  and  there,  now  embedded  deep  in  his- 
torical strata,  and  now  cropping  out  in  the  current  of 
prophetical  speech.  Still,  an  ear  but  little  trained  to  har- 
monies can  detect  a  marvellous  difiference  between  the 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  THE  JUBILEE.  13S 

tone  of  the  Old  and  the  tone  of  the  New  Dispensation. 
"  EvangeHsts "  is  scarcely  the  name  we  should  give 
to  the  prophets  and  preachers  of  the  Old  Testament, 
if  we  except  that  prophet  of  the  dawn,  Isaiah.  They 
came,  not  as  the  bearers  of  glad  tidings,  but  with  the 
pressure,  the  burden  of  a  terrible  "  woe  "  upon  them. 
With  a  voice  of  threat  and  doom  they  recall  Israel 
back  to  the  ways  of  fidelity  and  purity,  and  with  the 
caustic  of  biting  words  they  seek  to  burn  out  the 
cancer  of  national  corruption.  They  were  no  doves, 
those  old-time  prophets,  building  their  nests  in  the 
blossoming  olives,  in  soft  accents  telling  of  a  winter 
past  and  a  summer  near  ;  they  were  storm-birds  rather, 
beating  with  swift,  sad  wings  on  the  crest  of  sullen 
waves,  or  whirling  about  among  the  torn  shrouds. 
Even  the  eremite  Baptist  brought  no  evangel.  He  was 
a  sad  man,  with  a  sad  message,  telling,  not  of  the  right 
which  men  should  do,  but  of  the  wrong  they  should 
not  do,  his  ministry,  like  that  of  the  law,  being  a 
ministry  of  condemnation.  Jesus,  however,  announces 
Himself  as  the  world's  Evangelist.  He  declares  that 
He  is  anointed  and  commissioned  to  be  the  bearer  of 
good,  glad  tidings  to  man.  At  once  the  Morning  Star 
and  Sun,  He  comes  to  herald  a  new  day ;  nay.  He 
comes  to  make  that  day.  And  so  it  was.  We  cannot 
listen  to  the  words  of  Jesus  without  noticing  the  high 
and  heavenly  pitch  to  which  their  music  is  set.  Be- 
ginning with  the  Beatitudes,  they  move  on  in  the  higher 
spaces,  striking  the  notes  of  courage,  hope,  and  faith, 
and  at  last,  in  the  guest-chamber,  dropping  down  to 
their  key-note,  as  they  close  with  an  eirenicon  and  a 
benediction.  How  little  Jesus  played  upon  men's 
fears  1  how,  instead,  He  sought  to  inspire  them  with 
new  hopes,  telling  of  the  possibilities  of  goodness,  .he 


tjfi  THE   GOSPEL   OP  ST,  LUKE, 

perfections  which  were  within  reach  of  even  the  human 
endeavour!  How  seldom  you  catch  the  tone  of  de- 
spondency in  His  words  I  As  He  summons  men  tc 
a  life  of  purity,  unselfishness,  and  faith.  His  are  not  the 
voice  and  mien  of  one  who  commands  to  a  forlorn  hope. 
There  is  the  ring  of  courage,  conviction,  certainty  about 
His  tone,  a  hopefulness  that  was  itself  half  a  victory. 
Jesus  was  no  Pessimist,  reading  over  the  grave  of 
departed  glories  His  "  ashes  to  ashes;"  He  who  knew 
our  human  nature  best  had  most  hopes  of  it,  for  He 
saw  the  Deity  that  was  back  of  it  and  within  it. 

And  just  here  we  touch  what  we  may  call  the  funda- 
mental chord  in  the  Gospel  of  Jesus,  the  Fatherhood 
of  God ;  for  though  we  can  detect  other  strains  running 
through  the  music  of  the  Gospel,  such  as  the  Love  of 
God,  the  Grace  of  God,  and  the  Kingdom  of  God,  yet 
these  are  but  the  consonant  notes  completing  the  har- 
monic scale,  or  the  variations  that  play  about  the  Divine 
Fatherhood.  To  the  Hebrew  conception  of  God  this 
was  an  element  altogether  new.  To  their  mind  Jehovah 
is  the  Lord  of  hosts,  an  invisible,  absolute  Power, 
inhabiting  the  thick  darkness,  and  speaking  in  the  fire. 
Sinai  thus  throws  its  shadow  across  the  Old  Testa- 
ment Scriptures,  and  men  inhale  an  atmosphere  of  law 
rather  than  of  love. 

But  what  a  transformation  was  wrought  in  the  world's 
thought  and  life  as  Jesus  unfolded  the  Divine  Father- 
hood I  It  altered  the  whole  aspect  of  man's  relation  to 
God,  with  a  change  as  marked  and  glorious  as  when 
our  earth  turns  its  fiace  more  directly  to  the  sun,  to  find 
its  summer.  The  Great  King,  whose  will  commanded 
all  forces,  became  the  Great  Father,  in  whose  compas- 
sionate heart  the  toiling  children  of  men  might  find 
refuge  and  rest     The  "  Everlasting  Arms  "  were  none 


THE   GOSPEL   OF   THE  /UBJLEE,  137 

the  less  strong  and  omnipotent ;  but  as  Jesus  uncovered 
them  they  seemed  less  distant,  less  rigid ;  they  became 
so  near  and  so  gentle,  the  weakest  child  of  earth  might 
not  fear  to  lay  its  tired  heart  upon  them.  Law  was 
none  the  less  mighty,  none  the  less  majestic,  but  it  was 
now  a  transfigured  law,  all  lighted  up  and  suffused  with 
love.  No  longer  was  life  one  round  of  servile  tasks, 
demanded  by  an  inexorable,  invisible  Pharaoh ;  no 
longer  was  it  a  trampled  playground,  where  all  the 
flowers  are  crushed,  as  Fate  and  Chance  take  their 
alternate  innings.  No ;  life  was  ennobled,  adorned  with 
new  and  rare  beauties;  and  when  Jesus  opened  the 
gate  of  the  Divine  Fatherhood  the  light  that  was 
beyond,  and  that  "  never  was  on  sea  or  land,"  shone 
through,  putting  a  heavenliness  upon  the  earthly,  and 
a  Divineness  upon  the  human  life.  What  better,  gladder 
tidings  could  the  poor  (whether  in  spirit  or  in  life)  hear 
than  this — that  heaven  was  no  longer  a  distant  dream, 
but  a  present  and  most  precious  reality,  touching  at 
every  point,  and  enfolding  their  little  lives ;  that  God 
was  no  longer  hostile,  or  even  indifferent  to  them,  but 
that  He  cared  for  them  with  an  infinite  care,  and  loved 
them  with  an  infinite  love  ?  Thus  did  Jesus  proclaim 
the  "  good  tidings ; "  for  love,  grace,  redemption,  and 
heaven  itself  are  all  found  within  the  compass  of  the 
Fatherhood.  And  He  who  gave  to  His  disciples,  in 
the  Paternoster^  a  golden  key  for  heaven's  audience- 
chamber,  speaks  that  sacred  name  "  Father  "  even  amid 
the  agonies  of  the  cross,  putting  the  silver  trumpet  to 
His  parched  and  quivering  lips,  so  that  earth  may  hear 
once  again  the  music  of  its  new  and  more  glorious 
Jubilee. 

2,  The  Gospel  of  Jesus   was  a   Gospel   of  Light 
"  And  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind,"  which  is  the 


ijS  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

Septuagint  rendering  of  the  Hebrew  passage  in  Isaiah, 
"  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them  that  are  bound." 
At  first  sight  this  appears  to  be  a  break  in  the  Jubilee 
idea;  for  physical  cures,  such  as  the  healing  of  the 
blind,  did  not  come  within  the  scope  of  Jubilatic  mercies. 
The  original  expression,  however,  contains  a  blending 
of  figures,  which  together  preserve  the  unity  of  the 
prophetic  picture.  Literally  it  reads,  "  The  opening  of 
the  eyes  to  them  that  are  bound  ; "  the  figure  being 
that  of  a  captive,  whose  long  captivity  in  the  darkness 
has  filmed  his  vision,  and  who  now  passes  through  the 
opened  door  of  his  prison  into  the  light  of  day. 

In  what  way  shall  we  interpret  these  words  ?  Are 
they  to  be  taken  literally,  or  spiritually  ?  or  are  both 
methods  equally  legitimate  ?  Evidently  they  are  both 
intended,  for  Jesus  was  the  Light-bringer  in  more  senses 
than  one.  That  the  Messiah  should  signalize  His 
advent  by  performing  wonders  and  signs,  and  by  work- 
ing physical  cures,  was  certainly  the  teaching  of  pro- 
phecy, as  it  was  a  fixed  and  prominent  hope  in  the 
expectation  of  the  Jews.  And  so,  when  the  despondent 
Baptist  sent  two  of  his  disciples  to  ask  "  Art  Thou  He 
that  should  come  ? "  Jesus  gave  no  direct  answer,  but 
turning  from  His  questioners  to  the  multitude  of  sick 
who  pressed  around  Him,  He  healed  their  sick,  and 
gave  sight  to  many  that  were  blind.  Then  returning 
to  the  surprised  strangers.  He  bids  them  carry  back  to 
their  master  these  visible  proofs  of  His  Messiahship — 
how  that  "lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  blind  receive 
their  sight."  Jesus  Himself  had  a  wonderful  power  of 
vision.  His  eyes  were  Divinely  bright,  for  they  carried 
their  own  light.  Not  only  had  He  the  gift  of  pre- 
science, the  forward-looking  eye;  He  had  what  for 
want  of  a  word  we  may  call  the  gift  of  prescience,  the 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  THE  JUBILEE,  139 


eye  that  looked  within,  that  saw  the  heart  and  soul  of 
things.  What  a  strange  fascination  there  was  in  His 
very  look !  how  it  flashed  like  a  subtle  lightning, 
striking  and  scathing  with  its  holy  indignation  the  half- 
veiled  meanness  and  hypocrisy  !  and  how  again,  like 
a  beam  of  light,  it  fell  upon  Peter's  soul,  thawing  the 
chilled  heart,  and  opening  the  closed  fountain  of  his 
tears,  as  an  Alpine  summer  falls  on  the  rigid  glacier, 
and  sends  it  rippling  and  singing  through  the  lower 
vales.  And  had  not  Jesus  an  especial  sympathy  for 
cases  of  ophthalmic  distress,  paying  to  the  blind  a 
peculiar  attention  ?  How  quickly  He  responded  to 
Bartimaeus — "  What  is  it  that  I  shall  do  for  thee  ?  " — 
as  if  Bartimaeus  were  conferring  the  benefit  by  making 
his  request.  Where  on  the  pages  of  the  four  Gospels 
do  we  find  a  picture  more  full  of  beauty  and  sublimity 
than  when  we  read  of  Jesus  taking  the  blind  man  by 
the  hand,  and  leading  him  out  of  the  town  ?  What 
moral  grandeur  and  what  touching  pathos  are  there  I 
and  how  that  stoop  of  gentleness  makes  Him  great ! 
No  other  case  is  there  of  such  prolonged  and  tender 
sympathy,  where  He  not  only  opens  the  gates  of  day 
for  the  benighted,  but  leads  the  benighted  one  up  to 
the  gates.  And  why  does  Jesus  make  this  difference 
in  His  miracles,  that  while  other  cures  are  wrought 
instantly,  even  the  raising  of  the  dead,  with  nothing 
more  than  a  look,  a  word,  or  a  touch,  in  healing  the 
blind  He  should  work  the  cure,  as  it  were,  in  parts,  or 
by  using  such  intermediaries  as  clay,  saliva,  or  the 
water  of  Siloam's  pool  ?  Must  it  not  have  been  inten- 
tional ?  It  would  seem  so,  though  what  the  purpose 
might  be  we  can  only  guess.  Was  it  so  gradual  an 
inletting  of  the  light,  because  a  glare  too  bright  and 
sudden  would  only  confuse  and  blind?  or  did  Jesus 


140  THB  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKB. 

linger  over  the  cure  with  the  pleasure  of  one  who  lovet 
to  watch  the  dawn,  as  it  paints  the  east  with  vermilion 
and  gold  ?  or  did  Jesus  make  use  of  the  saliva  and 
clay,  that  like  crystal  lenses,  they  might  magnify  His 
power,  and  show  how  His  will  was  supreme,  that 
He  had  a  thousand  ways  of  restoring  sight,  and  that 
He  had  only  to  command  even  unlikely  things,  and 
light,  or  rather  sight,  should  be?  We  do  not  know 
the  purpose,  but  we  do  know  that  physical  sight  was 
somehow  a  favourite  gift  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  one  that 
He  handed  to  men  carefully  and  tenderly.  Nay,  He 
Himielf  said  that  the  man  of  Jerusalem  had  been  born 
blind  "  that  the  works  of  God  should  be  manifest  in 
him ;  **  that  is,  his  firmament  had  been  for  forty  years 
darkened  that  his  age,  and  all  coming  ages,  might  see 
shining  within  it  the  constellations  of  Divine  Pity  and 
Divine  Power. 

But  while  Jesus  knew  well  the  anatomy  of  the 
natural  eye,  and  could  and  did  heal  it  of  its  disorders, 
putting  within  the  sunken  socket  the  rounded  ball,  or 
restoring  to  the  optic  nerve  its  lost  powers,  this  was 
not  the  only  sight  He  brought  To  the  companion 
clauses  of  this  prophecy,  where  Jesus  proclaims  deliver- 
ance to  the  captives,  and  sets  at  liberty  them  that  are 
bruised,  we  are  compelled  to  give  a  spiritual  interpre- 
tation ;  and  so  "  the  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind " 
demands  a  far  wider  horizon  than  the  literalistic  sense 
offers.  It  speaks  of  the  true  Light  which  lighteth 
every  man,  that  spiritual  photosphere  that  environs 
and  enswathes  the  soul,  and  of  the  opening  and  adjust- 
ing of  the  spiritual  sense ;  for  as  sight  without  light  is 
darkness,  so  light  without  sight  is  darkness  still.  The 
two  facts  are  thus  related,  each  useless  apart  from  the 
other,    but  together   producing    what   we   call   vision 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  THE  JUBILEE,  141 

The  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind  is  thus  the  uni- 
versal miracle.  It  is  the  "  Let  light  be "  of  the  new 
Genesis,  or,  as  we  prefer  to  call  it,  the  "  regeneration." 
It  is  the  dawn,  which,  breaking  over  the  soul,  broadens 
unto  the  perfect  day,  the  heavenly,  the  eternal  noon. 
Jesus  Himself  recognized  this  binoculism,  this  double 
vision.  He  says  (John  xvi.  16),  "A  little  while,  and 
ye  behold  Me  no  more ;  and  again  a  httle  while,  and  ye 
shall  see  Me,"  using  two  altogether  different  words — 
the  one  speaking  of  the  vision  of  the  sense,  the  other 
of  the  deeper  vision  of  the  soul.  And  it  was  so.  The 
disciples'  vision  of  the  Christ,  at  least  so  long  as 
the  bodily  presence  was  with  them,  was  the  earthly, 
physical  vision.  The  spiritual  Christ  was,  in  a  sense, 
lost,  masked  in  the  corporeal.  The  veil  of  His  flesh 
hung  dense  and  heavy  before  their  eyes,  and  not  until 
it  was  uplifted  on  the  cross,  not  until  it  was  rent  in 
twain,  did  they  see  the  mysterious  Holy  Presence  that 
dwelt  within  the  veil.  Nor  was  the  clearer  vision  given 
them  even  now.  The  dust  of  the  sepulchre  was  in 
their  eyes,  blurring,  and  for  a  time  half-blinding  them 
— the  anointing  with  the  clay.  The  emptied  grave, 
the  Resurrection,  was  their  "  pool  of  Siloam,"  washing 
away  the  blinding  clay,  the  dust  of  their  gross,  materi- 
alistic thoughts.  Henceforth  they  saw  Christ,  not,  as 
before,  ever  coming  and  going,  but  as  the  ever-present, 
the  abiding  One.  In  the  fuller  light  of  the  Pentecostal 
flames  the  unseen  Christ  became  more  near  and  more 
real  than  the  seen  Christ  ever  was.  Seeing  Him  as  visible, 
their  minds  were  holden,  somewhat  perplexed;  they 
could  neither  accomphsh  much  nor  endure  much ;  but 
seeing  Him  who  had  become  invisible,  they  were  a  com- 
pany of  invincibles.  They  could  do  and  they  could  en- 
dure anything;  for  was  not  the  I  AM  with  them  always? 


142  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST,  LUKE. 

Now,  even  in  the  physical  vision  there  is  a  wonderful 
correspondence  between  the  sight  and  the  soul,  the 
prospect  and  introspect.  As  men  read  the  outward 
world  they  see  pretty  much  the  shadow  of  themselves, 
their  thoughts,  feelings,  and  ideas.  In  the  German 
fable  the  travelled  stork  had  nothing  to  say  about  the 
beauty  of  the  fields  and  wonders  of  the  cities  over 
which  it  passed,  but  it  could  discourse  at  length  about 
the  delicious  frogs  it  had  found  in  a  certain  ditch. 
Exactly  the  same  law  rules  up  in  the  higher  vision. 
Men  see  what  they  themselves  love  and  are ;  the  sight 
is  but  a  sort  of  projection  of  the  soul.  As  St.  Paul 
says,  "The  natural  man  receiveth  not  the  things  of 
God;"  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared  for  them 
that  love  Him  are  "  things  which  eye  saw  not,  and  ear 
heard  not."  And  so  Jesus  gives  sight  by  renewing  the 
soul ;  He  creates  around  us  a  new  heaven  and  a  new 
earth,  by  creating  a  new,  a  clean  heart  within  us. 
Within  every  soul  there  are  the  possibilities  of  a 
Paradise,  but  these  possibilities  are  dormant.  The 
natural  heart  is  a  chaos  of  confusion  and  darkness, 
until  it  turns  towards  Jesus  as  its  Saviour  and  its 
Sun,  and  henceforth  revolves  around  Him  in  its  ever- 
narrowing  circles. 

3.  The  Gospel  of  Jesus  was  a  Gospel  of  Liberty. 
"  He  hath  sent  Me  to  proclaim  release  to  the  cap- 
tives," "  to  set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised."  The 
latter  clause  is  not  in  the  original  prophecy,  but  is  a 
rough  adaptation  of  another  passage  in  Isaiah  (Iviii.  6). 
Probably  it  was  quoted  by  Jesus  in  His  address,  and  sa 
was  inserted  by  the  Evangelist  with  the  passages  read ; 
for  in  the  New  Testament  the  quotations  from  the  Old 
are  grouped  together  by  affinities  of  spirit,  rather  than 
by  the  law  of  textual  continuity.     The  two  passage* 


THB   GOSPEL   OF  THE  JUBILEE.  143 

are  one  in  their  proclamation  and  promise  of  liberty, 
but  they  by  no  means  cover  the  same  ground.  The 
former  speaks  of  the  liberation  of  captives,  those  whom 
the  exigencies  of  war  or  some  change  of  fortune  have 
thrown  into  prison ;  the  latter  speaks  of  deliverance  to 
the  oppressed,  those  whose  personal  liberties  may  not 
be  impawned,  but  whose  lives  are  made  hard  and  bitter 
under  severe  exactions,  and  whose  spirits  are  broken, 
crushed  beneath  a  weight  of  accumulated  ills.  Speak- 
ing generally,  we  should  call  the  one  an  amnesty,  and 
the  other  an  enfranchisement;  for  one  is  the  offer  of 
freedom  to  the  captive,  the  other  of  freedom  to  the 
slave ;  while  together  they  form  an  act  of  emancipation 
for  humanity,  enfranchising  and  ennobling  each  indivi- 
dual son  of  man,  and  giving  to  him,  even  the  poorest, 
the  freedom  of  God's  world. 

In  what  sense,  then,  is  Jesus  the  great  Emancipator  ? 
It  would  be  easy  to  show  that  Jesus,  personally,  was  a 
lover  of  freedom.  He  could  not  brook  restraints. 
Antiquity,  conventionalism,  had  no  charms  for  Him. 
Keenly  in  touch  with  the  present.  He  did  not  care  to 
take  the  cold,  clammy  hand  of  a  dead  Past,  or  allow  it  to 
prescribe  His  actions.  Between  the  right  and  the  wrong, 
the  good  and  the  evil,  He  put  a  wall  of  adamant,  God's 
eternal  '^  No ; "  but  within  the  sphere  of  the  right,  the 
good.  He  left  room  for  largest  liberties.  He  observed 
forms — occasionally,  at  least — but  formalism  He  could 
not  endure.  And  so  Jesus  was  constantly  coming  into 
collision  with  the  Pharisaic  school  of  thought,  the 
school  of  routinists,  casuists,  whose  religion  was  a 
glossary  of  terms,  a  volume  of  formulas  and  negations. 
To  the  Pharisee  religion  was  a  cold,  dead  thing,  a 
mummy,  all  enswathed  in  the  cerecloths  of  tradition ; 
to  Jesus  it  was  a  living  soul  within  a  living  form,  an 


144  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

angel  of  grace  and  beauty,  whose  wings  would  bear 
her  aloft  to  higher,  heavenlier  spheres,  and  whose  feet 
and  hands  fitted  her  just  as  well  for  the  common  walks 
of  life,  in  a  beautiful,  every-day  ministry  of  blessing. 
And  how  Jesus  loved  to  give  personal  liberty  to  man — 
to  remove  the  restrictions  disease  had  put  around 
their  activities,  and  to  leave  them  physically,  mentally 
free  I  And  what  were  His  miracles  of  healing  but  pro- 
clamations of  liberty,  in  the  lowest  sense  of  that  word  ? 
He  found  the  human  body  enfeebled,  enslaved ;  here  it 
was  an  arm,  there  an  eye,  so  held  in  the  grip  of  disease 
that  it  was  as  if  dead.  But  Jesus  said  to  Disease, 
"  Loose  that  half-strangled  life  and  let  it  go,"  and  in  an 
instant  it  was  free  to  act  and  feel,  finding  its  lesser 
jubilee.  Jesus  saw  the  human  mind  led  into  captivity. 
Reason  was  dethroned  and  immured  in  the  dungeon, 
while  the  feet  of  lawless  passions  were  trampling  over- 
head. But  when  Jesus  healed  the  demoniac,  the  im- 
becile, the  lunatic,  what  was  it  but  a  mental  jubilee, 
as  He  gives  peace  to  a  distracted  soul,  and  leads 
banished  Reason  back  to  her  Jerusalem  ? 

But  these  deliverances  and  liberties,  glorious  as  they 
are,  are  but  figures  of  the  true,  which  is  the  en- 
franchisement of  the  soul.  The  disciples  were  per- 
plexed and  sorely  disappointed  that  Jesus  should  die 
without  having  wrought  any  *'  redemption  "  for  Israel. 
This  was  their  one  dream,  that  the  Messiah  should 
break  in  pieces  the  hated  Roman  yoke,  and  effect  a 
political  deliverance.  But  they  see  Him  moving 
steadily  to  His  goal,  taking  no  note  of  their  aspirations, 
or  noticing  them  only  to  rebuke  them,  and  scarce 
giving  a  passing  glance  to  these  Roman  eagles,  which 
darken  the  sky,  and  cast  their  ominous  shadows  over 
the  homes  and  fields  of  Israel      But  Jesus  had  not 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  7HE  JUBILEE,  145 


come  into  the  world  to  effect  any  local,  political  redemp- 
tion ;  another  Moses  could  have  done  that  He  had 
come  to  lead  captive  the  captivity  of  Sin,  as  Zacharias 
had  foretold,  "  that  being  delivered  out  of  the  hand  of 
our  (spiritual)  ea  nies,  we  might  serve  Him  without 
fear,  in  holiness  and  righteousness  all  the  days  of  our 
life."  The  sphere  of  His  mission  was  where  His 
kingdom  should  be,  in  the  great  interior  of  the  heart. 
A  Prophet  like  unto  Moses,  but'  infinitely  greater 
than  he.  He  too  leaves  the  palace,  of  the  Eternal,  lay- 
ing aside,  jaot  the  robes  of  a  prospective  royait^ ,  *^ur 
the  glories  He  possessed  with  the  Father;  He  too 
assumes  the  dress,  the  speech,  nay,  the  very  nature, 
of  the  race  He  has  come  to  redeem.  And  when  no 
other  ransom  was  sufficient  He  "  offered  Himself  with- 
out spot  to  God,"  **  our  Passover,  sacrified  for  us,"  so 
sprinkling  the  doorway  of  the  new  Exodus  with  His 
own  blood.  But  here  we  w^and  on  the  *-hreshoh!  of 
a  great  mystery ;  for  if  angels  bend  over  the  mercy- 
seat,  desiring,  but  in  vain,  to  read  the  secret  of  redemp- 
aon,  how  can  our  finite  minds  grasp  the  great  thought 
and  purpose  of  God  ?  We  do  know  this,  however,  for 
it  is  the  oft-repeated  truth  of  Scripture,  that  the  life, 
or,  as  St.  Peter  puts  it,  "  the  precious  blood  of  Christ," 
was,  in  a  certain  sense,  our  ransom,  the  price  of  our 
redemption.  We  say  "in  a  certain  sense,"  for  the 
figure  breaks  down  if  we  press  it  unduly,  as  if  Heaven 
had  held  a  parley  with  the  power  that  had  enslaved 
man,  and,  at  a  stipulated  price,  had  bought  him  off. 
That  certainly  was  no  part  of  the  Divine  purpose  and 
fact  of  redemption.  But  an  atonement  was  needed  in 
order  to  make  salvation  possible ;  for  how  could  God, 
infinitely  holy  and  just,  remit  the  penalty  due  to  sin 
^ith  no  expression  of  His  abhorrence  of  sin,  without 

10 


THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 


destroying  the  dignity  of  law,  and  reducing  justice  to 
a  mere  name  ?  But  the  obedience  and  death  of  Christ 
were  a  satisfaction  of  infinite  worth.  They  upheld  the 
majesty  of  law,  and  at  the  same  time  made  way  for  the 
interventions  of  Divine  Love.  The  cross  of  Jesus 
was  thus  the  place  where  Mercy  and  Truth  met  to- 
gether, and  Righteousness  and  Peace  kissed  each 
other.  It  was  at  once  the  visible  expression  of  God's 
deep  hatred  of  sin,  and  of  His  deep  love  to  the  sinner. 
And  so,  not  virtually  simply,  in  some  far-off  sense,  but 
in  truest  reality,  Jesus  '^died  for  our  sins,"  Himself 
tasting  death  that  we  might  have  life,  even  the  life 
'*  more  abundant,"  the  life  everlasting ;  suffering  Him- 
self to  be  led  captive  by  the  powers  of  sin,  bound  to 
the  cross  and  imprisoned  in  a  grave,  that  men  might 
be  free  Id  all  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of 
God. 

But  this  deliverance  from  sin,  the  pardon  for  past 
offences,  is  but  one  part  of  the  salvation  Jesus  provides 
and  proclaims.  Heaven's  angel  may  light  up  the 
dungeon  of  the  imprisoned  soul ;  he  may  strike  off  its 
fetters,  and  lead  it  forth  into  light  and  liberty ;  but  if 
Satan  can  reverse  all  this,  and  fling  back  the  soul  into 
captivity,  what  is  that  but  a  partial,  intermittent  salva- 
tion, so  unlike  Him  whose  name  is  Wonderful  ?  The 
angel  said,  "  He  shall  save  His  people,"  not  from  the 
effects  of  their  sir,  from  its  guilt  and  condemnation 
alone,  but  "  from  their  sins."  That  is.  He  shall  give 
to  the  pardoned  soul  power  over  sin  ;  it  shall  no  longer 
have  dominion  over  him  ;  captivity  itself  shall  be  led 
captive ;  for 

**  His  grace,  His  love,  His  care 
Are  wider  than  our  utmost  need. 
And  higher  than  our  prayer." 


THE  GOSPEL   Of  THE  JUBILEE.  147 

Yes,  verily ;  and  the  life  that  is  hid  with  Christ  in 
God,  that,  with  no  side-glances  at  self,  is  set  apart 
utterly  to  do  the  Divine  will,  that  abandons  itself  to 
the  perfect  keeping  of  the  perfect  Saviour,  will  find  on 
earth  the  "  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord,"  its  years, 
henceforth,  years  of  liberty  and  victory,  a  prolonged 
Jubilee. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

A  SABBATH  IN  GALILEE, 

WE  should  naturally  expect  that  our  physician- 
Evangelist  would  have  a  peculiar  interest  in 
Christ's  connection  with  human  suffering  and  disease, 
and  in  this  we  are  not  mistaken. 

It  is  almost  a  superfluous  task  to  consider  what  our 
Gospels  would  have  been  had  there  been  no  miracles 
of  healing  to  record  ;  but  we  may  safely  say  that  such 
a  blank  would  be  inexplicable,  if  not  impossible.  Even 
had  prophecy  been  utterly  silent  on  the  subject,  should 
we  not  look  for  the  Christ  to  signalize  His  advent  and 
reign  upon  earth  by  manifestations  of  His  Divine 
power  ?  A  Man  amongst  men,  human  yet  superhuman, 
how  can  He  manifest  the  Divinity  that  is  within,  except 
by  the  flashings  forth  of  His  supernatural  power? 
Speech,  however  eloquent,  however  true,  could  not  do 
this.  There  must  be  a  background  of  deeds,  visible 
credentials  of  authority  and  power,  or  else  the  words 
are  weak  and  vain — but  the  play  of  a  borealis  in  the 
sky,  beautiful  and  bright  indeed,  but  distarj,  inopera- 
tive, and  cold.  If  the  prophets  of  old,  who  were  but 
acolytes  swinging  their  lamps  and  singing  their  songs 
before  the  coming  Christ,  were  allowed  to  attest  their 
commission  by  occasional  enduements  of  miraculous 
power,  must  not  the  Christ  Himself  prove  His  super- 


A   SABBATH  IN  GAULEE.  149 

humanity  by  fuller  measures  and  exhibitions  of  the 
same  power  ?  And  where  can  He  manifest  this  so 
well  as  in  connection  with  the  world's  suffering,  need, 
and  pain?  Here  is  a  background  prepared,  and  all 
dark  enough  in  sooth ;  where  can  He  write  so  well 
that  men  may  read  His  messages  of  good-will,  love,  and 
peace  ?  Where  can  He  put  His  sign  manual.  His 
Divine  autograph,  better  than  on  this  firmament  of 
human  sorrow,  disease,  and  woe  ?  And  so  the  miracles 
of  healing  fall  naturally  into  the  story ;  they  are  the 
natural  and  necessary  accompaniments  of  the  Divine 
life  upon  earth. 

The  first  miracle  that  Jesus  wrought  was  in  the 
home  at  Cana ;  His  first  miracle  of  healing  was  in  the 
synagogue.  He  thus  placed  Himself  in  the  two  pivotal 
centres  of  our  earthly  life;  for  that  life,  with  its 
heavenward  and  earthward  aspects,  revolves  about  the 
synagogue  and  the  home.  He  touches  our  human  life 
alike  on  its  temporal  and  its  spiritual  side.  To  a 
nature  like  that  of  Jesus,  which  had  an  intense  love 
for  what  was  real  and  true,  and  as  intense  a  scorn  for 
what  was  superficial  and  unreal,  it  would  seem  as  if 
a  Hebrew  synagogue  would  offer  but  few  attractions. 
True,  it  served  as  the  visible  symbol  of  religion ;  it  was 
the  shrine  where  the  Law  and  the  Prophets  spoke; 
what  spiritual  life  there  was  circled  and  eddied  around 
its  door;  while  its  walls,  pointing  to  Jerusalem,  kept 
the  scattered  populations  in  touch  with  the  Temple, 
that  marbled  dream  of  Hebraism  ;  but  in  saying  this 
we  say  nearly  all.  The  tides  of  worldliness  and 
formality,  which,  sweeping  through  the  Temple  gates, 
had  left  a  scum  of  mire  even  upon  the  sacred  courts, 
chilling  devotion  and  almost  extinguishing  faith,  had 
swept  over  the  threshold  of  the  ^nagoguc     There  ihB 


ISO  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

scribes  had  usurped  Moses*  seat,  exalting  Tradition 
as  a  sort  of  essence  of  Scripture,  and  deadening  the 
majestic  voices  of  the  law  in  the  jargon  of  their  vain 
repetitions.  But  Jesus  does  not  absent  Himself  from 
the  service  of  the  synagogue  because  the  fires  upon  its 
altars  are  dulled  and  quenched  by  the  down-draught  of 
the  times.  To  Him  it  is  the  house  of  God,  and  if 
others  see  it  not,  He  sees  a  ladder  of  light,  with  as- 
cending and  descending  angels.  If  others  hear  but  the 
voices  of  man,  all  broken  and  confused.  He  hears  the 
Diviner  voice,  still  and  small;  He  hears  the  music 
of  the  heavenly  host,  throwing  down  their  Glorias  upon 
earth.  The  pure  in  heart  can  find  and  see  God  any- 
where. He  who  worships  truly  carries  his  Holy  of 
hoHes  within  him.  He  who  takes  his  own  fire  need 
never  complain  of  the  cold,  and  with  wood  and  fire  all 
prepared,  he  can  find  or  he  can  build  an  altar  upon 
any  mount.  Happy  is  the  soul  that  has  learned  to 
lean  upon  God,  who  can  say,  amid  all  the  distractions 
and  interventions  of  man,  "  My  soul,  wait  thou  only 
upon  God."  To  such  a  one,  whose  soul  is  athirst  for 
God,  the  Valley  of  Baca  becomes  a  well,  while  the  hot 
rock  pours  out  its  streams  of  blessing.  The  art  of 
worship  avails  nothing  if  the  heart  of  worship  is  gone ; 
but  if  that  remain,  subtle  attractions  will  ever  draw  it 
to  the  place  where  "  His  name  is  recorded,  and  where 
His  honour  dwelleth." 

In  his  earlier  chapters  St.  Luke  is  careful  to  light 
his  Sabbath  lamp,  teUing  that  such  and  such  miracles 
were  wrought  on  that  day,  because  the  Sabbath  ques- 
tion was  one  on  which  Jesus  soon  came  into  collision 
with  the  Pharisees.  By  their  traditions,  and  the  withs 
of  dry  and  sharp  legalities,  they  had  strangled  the 
Sabbath,  until  life  was  well-nigh  extinct      They  had 


A   SABBATH  IN  GALILEE,  151 

made  rigorous  and  exacting  what  God  had  made 
bright  and  restful,  fencing  it  around  with  negations, 
and  burdening  it  with  penahies.  Jesus  broke  the  withs 
that  bound  her,  let  the  freer  air  play  upon  her  face, 
and  then  led  her  back  to  the  sweet  liberties  of  her 
earlier  years.     How  He  does  it  the  sequel  will  show. 

The  Sabbath  morning  finds  Jesus  repairing  to  the 
synagogue  at  Capernaum,  a  sanctuary  built  by  a 
Gentile  centurion,  and  presided  over  by  Jairus,  both  of 
whom  are  yet  to  be  brought  into  close  personal  rela- 
tionship with  Christ.  From  the  silence  of  the  narrative 
we  should  infer  that  the  courtesy  offered  at  Nazareth 
was  not  repeated  at  Capernaum — that  of  being  invited 
to  read  the  lesson  from  the  Book  of  the  Prophets.  But 
whether  so  or  not.  He  was  allowed  to  address  the  con- 
gregation, a  privilege  which  was  often  accorded  to  any 
eminent  stranger  who  might  be  present.  Of  the  subject 
of  the  discourse  we  know  nothing.  Possibly  it  was 
suggested  by  some  passing  scene  or  incident,  as  the 
sculptured  pot  of  manna,  in  this  same  synagogue,  called 
forth  the  remarkable  address  about  the  earthly  and  the 
heavenly  bread  (John  vi.  31).  But  if  the  substance  of 
the  discourse  is  lost  to  us,  its  effect  is  not.  It  awoke 
the  same  feeling  of  surprise  at  Capernaum  as  it  had 
done  before  among  the  more  rustic  minds  of  Nazareth. 
There,  however,  it  was  the  graciousness  of  His  words, 
their  mingled  "  sweetness  and  light,"  which  so  caused 
them  to  wonder;  here  at  Capernaum  it  was  the  ^'au- 
thority" with  which  He  spoke  that  so  astonished  them, 
so  different  from  the  speech  of  the  scribes,  which,  for  the 
most  part,  was  but  an  iteration  of  quibbles  and  triviali- 
ties, with  just  as  much  of  originality  as  the  "  old  clo*  " 
cries  of  our  modern  streets.  The  speech  of  Jesus  came 
as  a  breath   from   the  upper  air  ;    it  was  the    intense 


iSa  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

language  of  One  who  possessed  the  truth,  and  who 
was  Himself  possessed  by  the  truth.  He  dealt  in 
principles,  not  platitudes ;  in  eternal  facts,  and  not  in  the 
fancies  of  gossamer  that  tradition  so  delighted  to  spin. 
Others  might  speak  with  the  hesitancy  of  doubt ;  Jesus 
spoke  in  "  verilys  "  and  verities,  the  very  essences  of 
truth.  And  so  His  word  fell  upon  the  ears  of  men  with 
the  tones  of  an  oracle ;  they  felt  themselves  addressed 
by  the  unseen  Deity  who  was  behind  ;  they  had  not 
learned,  as  we  have,  that  the  Deity  of  their  oracle  was 
within.  No  wonder  that  they  are  astonished  at  His 
authority — an  authority  so  perfectly  free  from  any 
assumptions  ;  they  will  wonder  still  more  when  they 
find  that  demons,  too,  recognize  this  authority,  and 
obey  it. 

While  Jesus  was  still  speaking — the  tense  of  the 
verb  implies  an  unfinished  discourse — suddenly  He  was 
interrupted  by  a  loud,  wild  shout ;  "  Ah,  what  have  we 
to  do  with  Thee,  Thou  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ?  Art  Thou 
come  to  destroy  us  ?  I  know  Thee,  who  Thou  art,  the 
Holy  One  of  God."  It  was  the  cry  of  a  man  who,  as 
our  Evangelist  expresses  it,  "  had  a  spirit  of  an  unclean 
devil."  The  phrase  is  a  singular  one,  in  fact  unique, 
and  savours  a  little  of  tautology ;  for  St  Luke  uses 
the  words  "  spirit "  and  "  devil "  as  synonyms  (ix.  39). 
Later  in  his  Gospel  he  would  simply  have  said  "he 
had  an  unclean  devil ; "  why,  then,  does  he  here  amplify 
the  phrase,  and  say  he  had  "a  spirit  of  an  unclean 
devil  "  ?  We  can,  of  course,  only  conjecture,  but  might 
it  not  be  because  to  the  Gentile  mind — to  which  he  is 
writing — the  powers  of  evil  were  represented  as  per- 
sonifications, having  a  corporeal  existence  ?  And  so 
in  his  first  reference  to  demoniacal  possession  he  pauses 
to  explain  that  these  demons  are  evil  "  spirits,"  with 


A  SABBATH  IN  GAULEE,  f]} 


existences  altogether  separate  from  the  diseased  hu- 
manity which  temporarily  they  were  allowed  to  inhabit 
and  to  rule.  Neither  can  we  determine  with  certainty 
the  meaning  of  the  phrase  "  an  unclean  devil,"  though 
probably  it  was  so  called  because  it  drove  its  victim  to 
haunt  unclean  places,  like  the  Gadarene,  who  had  his 
dwelling  among  the  tombs. 

The  whole  subject  of  demonology  has  been  called  in 
question  by  certain  modern  critics.  They  aver  that  it 
is  simply  an  after-growth  of  Paganism,  the  seeds  of 
worn-out  mythologies  which  had  been  blown  over  into 
the  Christian  mind  ;  and  eliminating  from  them  all  that 
is  supernatural,  they  reduce  the  so-called  **  posses- 
sions "  to  the  natural  effects  of  purely  natural  causes, 
physical  and  mental.  It  is  confessedly  a  subject  diffi- 
cult as  it  is  mysterious ;  but  we  are  not  inclined,  at 
the  bidding  of  rationalistic  clamour,  so  to  strike  out 
the  supernatural.  Indeed,  we  cannot,  without  impaling 
ourselves  upon  this  dilemma,  that  Jesus,  knowingly  or 
unknowingly,  taught  as  the  truth  what  was  not  true. 
That  Jesus  lent  the  weight  of  His  testimony  to  the 
jKjpular  belief  is  evident ;  never  once,  in  all  His  allu- 
sions, does  He  call  it  in  question,  nor  hint  that  He  is 
speaking  now  only  in  an  accommodated  sense,  borrowing 
the  accents  of  current  speech.  To  Him  the  existence 
and  presence  of  evil  spirits  was  just  as  patent  and  as 
solemn  a  fact  as  was  the  existence  of  the  arch-spirit, 
even  Satan  himself.  And  granting  the  existence  of 
evil  spirits,  who  will  show  us  the  line  of  limitation,  the 
"  Hitherto,  but  no  farther,"  where  their  influence  is 
stayed?  Have  we  not  seen,  in  mesmerism,  cases  of 
real  possession,  where  the  weaker  human  will  has  been 
completely  overpowered  by  the  stronger  will?  when 
the  subject  was  no  longer  himself,  but  his  thoughts, 


154  ^^^   r.OSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

words,  and  acts  were  those  of  another  ?  And  are  there 
not,  in  the  experiences  of  all  medical  men,  and  of 
ministers  of  religion,  cases  of  depravity  so  utterly  foul 
and  loathsome  that  they  cannot  be  explained  except 
by  the  Jewish  taunt,  "  He  hath  a  devil "  ?  According 
to  the  teaching  of  Scripture,  the  evil  spirit  possessed 
the  man  in  the  entirety  of  his  being,  commanding  his 
own  spirit,  ruling  both  body  and  mind.  Now  it  touched 
the  tongue  with  a  certain  glibness  of  speech,  becoming 
a  *'  spirit  of  divination,"  and  now  it  touched  it  with 
dumbness,  putting  upon  the  life  the  spell  of  an  awful 
silence.  Not  that  the  obscurity  of  the  eclipse  was 
always  the  same.  There  were  more  lucid  moments, 
the  penumbras  of  brightness,  when,  for  a  brief  interval, 
the  consciousness  seemed  to  awake,  and  the  human 
will  seemed  struggling  to  assert  itself;  as  is  seen  in  the 
occasional  dualism  of  its  speech,  when  the  "  I "  emerges 
from  the  "  we,"  only,  however,  to  be  drawn  back  again, 
to  have  its  identity  swallowed  up  as  before. 

Such  is  the  character  who,  leaving  the  graves  of  the 
dead  for  the  abodes  of  the  living,  now  breaks  through 
the  ceremonial  ban,  and  enters  the  synagogue.  Rush- 
ing wildly  within — for  we  can  scarcely  suppose  him 
to  be  a  quiet  worshipper ;  the  rules  of  the  synagogue 
would  not  have  allowed  that — and  approaching  Jesus, 
he  abruptly  breaks  in  upon  the  discourse  of  Jesus  with 
his  cry  of  mingled  fear  and  passion.  Of  the  cry  itself 
we  need  not  speak,  except  to  notice  its  question  and 
its  confession.  "  Art  Thou  come  to  destroy  us  ?  "  he 
asks,  as  if,  somehow,  the  secret  of  the  Redeemer's 
mission  had  been  told  to  these  powers  of  darkness. 
Did  they  know  that  He  had  come  to  *'  destroy  "  the 
works  of  the  devil,  and  ultimately  to  destroy,  with  an 
everlasting  destruction,  him   who   had   the   power   of 


A  SABBATH  IN  GALILEE.  155 

death,  that  is,  the  devil  ?  Possibly  they  did,  for,  citizens 
of  two  worlds,  the  visible  and  the  invisible,  should  not 
their  horizon  be  wider  than  our  own  ?  At  any  rate, 
their  knowledge,  in  some  points,  was  in  advance  of  the 
nascent  faith  of  the  disciples.  They  knew  and  con- 
fessed the  Divinity  of  Christ's  mission,  and  the  Divinity 
of  His  Person,  crying,  "  I  know  Thee,  who  Thou  art, 
the  Holy  One  of  God ;  "  "  Thou  art  the  Son  of  God  " 
(iv.  41),  when  as  yet  the  faith  of  the  disciples  was  only 
a  nebula  of  mist,  made  up  in  part  of  unreal  hopes  and 
random  guesses.  Indeed,  we  seldom  find  the  demons 
yielding  to  the  power  of  Christ,  or  to  the  delegated 
power  of  His  disciples,  but  they  make  their  confession 
of  superior  knowledge  as  if  they  possessed  a  more 
intimate  acquaintance  with  Christ.  "  Jesus  I  know, 
and  Paul  I  know,"  said  the  demon,  which  the  sons  of 
Sceva  could  not  exorcise  (Acts  xix.  15),  while  now  the 
demon  of  Capernaum  boasts,  "  I  know  Thee,  who  Thou 
art,  the  Holy  One  of  God."  Nor  was  it  a  vain  boast 
either,  for  our  Evangelist  asserts  that  Jesus  did  not 
suffer  the  demons  to  speak,  "  because  they  knew  that 
He  was  the  Christ"  (ver.  41).  They  knew  Jesus,  but 
they  feared  and  hated  Him.  In  a  certain  sense  they 
believed,  but  their  belief  only  caused  them  to  tremble, 
while  it  left  them  demons  still.     Just  so  is  it  now  : — 

"  There  are,  too,  who  believe  in  hell  and  lie ; 
There  are  who  waste  their  souls  in  working  out 
Life's  problem,  on  these  sands  betwixt  two  tides, 
And  end,  'Now give  us  the  beasts'  part,  in  death.** 

Saving  faith  is  thus  more  than  a  bare  assent  of  the 
mind,  more  than  some  cold  belief,  or  vain  repetition 
of  a  creed.  A  creed  may  be  complete  and  beautiful, 
but  it  is  not  the  Christ;  it  is  only  the  vesture  the 
Christ  wears ;  and  alas,  there  are  many  still  who  wil] 


»56  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE. 

chaffer  about,  and  cast  lots  for,  a  creed,  who  will  go 
directly  and  crucify  the  Christ  Himself!  The  faith 
that  saves,  besides  the  assent  of  the  mind,  must  have 
the  consent  of  the  will  and  the  surrender  of  the  life. 
It  is  "with  the  heart,"  and  not  only  with  the  mind, 
man  "  believeth  unto  righteousness." 

The  interruption  brought  the  discourse  of  Jesus  to 
an  abrupt  end,  but  it  served  to  point  the  discourse 
with  further  exclamations  of  surprise,  while  it  offered 
space  for  a  new  manifestation  of  Divine  authority  and 
power.  It  did  not  in  the  least  disconcert  the  Master, 
though  it  had  doubtless  sent  a  thrill  of  excitement 
through  the  whole  congregation.  He  did  not  even  rise 
from  His  seat  (ver.  38),  but  retaining  the  teaching  pos- 
ture, and  not  deigning  a  reply  to  the  questions  of  the 
demon,  He  rebuked  the  evil  spirit,  saying,  *'  Hold  thy 
peace,  and  come  out  of  him,"  thus  recognizing  the  dual 
will,  and  distinguishing  between  the  possessor  and  the 
possessed.  The  command  was  obeyed  instantly  and 
utterly ;  though,  as  if  to  make  one  last  supreme  effort, 
he  throws  his  victim  down  upon  the  floor  of  the  syna- 
gogue, like  Samson  Agonistes,  pulling  to  the  ground 
the  temple  of  his  imprisonment.  It  was,  however,  a 
vain  attempt,  for  he  did  him  "  no  hurt"  The  roaring 
lion  had  indeed  been  "  muzzled  " — which  is  the  primi- 
tive meaning  of  the  verb  rendered  "  Hold  thy  peace  "— 
by  the  omnipotent  word  of  Jesus. 

They  were  "  astonished  at  His  teaching  "  before,  but 
how  much  more  so  now !  Then  it  was  a  convincing 
word ;  now  it  is  a  commanding  word.  They  hear  the 
voice  of  Jesus,  sweeping  like  suppressed  thunder  over 
the  boundaries  of  the  invisible  world,  and  commanding 
even  devils,  driving  them  forth,  just  with  one  rebuke, 
from  the  temple  of  the  human  soul,  as  afterwards  He 


A   SABBATH   IN   GALILKL.  157 

drove  the  traders  from  His  Father's  house  with  Hit 
whip  of  small  cords.  No  wonder  that  **  amazement 
came  upon  all,"  or  that  they  asked,  "What  is  this 
word?  for  with  authority  and  power  He  commandeth 
the  unclean  spirits,  and  they  come  out" 

And  so  Jesus  began  His  miracles  of  healing  at  the 
outmost  marge  of  human  misery.  With  the  finger  of 
His  love,  with  the  touch  of  His  omnipotence.  He  swept 
the  uttermost  circle  of  our  human  need,  writing  on 
that  far  and  low  horizon  His  wonderful  name,  **  Mighty 
to  Save."  And  since  none  are  outcasts  from  His  mercy 
save  those  who  outcast  themselves,  why  should  we 
limit  "  the  Holy  One  of  Israel "  ?  why  should  we 
despair  of  any  ?     Life  and  hope  should  be  coeval. 

Immediately  on  retiring  from  the  synagogue,  Jesus 
passes  out  of  Capernaum,  and  along  the  shore  to  Beth- 
saida,  and  enters,  together  with  James  and  John,  the 
house  of  Peter  and  Andrew  (John  i.  44).  It  is  a 
singular  coincidence  that  the  Apostle  Peter,  with  whose 
name  the  Romish  Church  takes  such  liberties,  and 
who  is  himself  the  "  Rock "  on  which  they  rear  their 
huge  fabric  of  priestly  assumptions,  should  be  the  only 
Apostle  of  whose  married  life  we  read ;  for  though  John 
afterwards  possesses  a  **  home,"  its  only  inmate  besides, 
as  far  as  the  records  show,  is  the  new  ''mother"  he 
leads  away  from  the  cross.  It  is  true  we  have  not  the 
name  of  Peter's  wife,  but  we  find  her  shadow,  as  well 
as  that  of  her  husband,  thrown  across  the  pages  of  the 
New  Testament ;  cleaving  to  her  mother  even  while 
she  follows  another;  ministering  to  Jesus,  and  for  a 
time  finding  Him  a  home;  while  later  we  see  her 
sharing  the  privations  and  the  perils  of  her  husband's 
wandering  life  (i  Cor.  ix.  5).  Verily,  Rome  has  drifted 
far  from  the  "  Rock  "  of  her  anchorage,  the  example  of 


158  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

her  patron  saint ;  and  between  the  Vatican  of  the 
modern  Pontiff  and  the  sweet  domesticities  o\  Beth- 
saida  is  a  gulf  of  divergence  which  only  a  powerful 
imagination  can  cross. 

No  sooner,  however,  has  Jesus  entered  the  house 
than  He  is  told  how  Peter's  mother-in-law  has  been 
suddenly  stricken  down  by  a  violent  fever,  probably  a 
local  fever  for  which  that  lake-shore  was  notorious,  and 
which  was  bred  from  the  malaria  of  the  marsh.  Our 
physician-Evangelist  does  not  stay  to  diagnose  the 
malady,  but  he  speaks  of  it  as  ''a  great  fer  sr,"  thus 
giving  us  an  idea  of  its  virulence  and  consequent 
danger.  '*And  they  besought  Him  for  her;"  not  that 
He  was  at  all  reluctant  to  grant  their  request,  for  the 
tense  of  the  verb  implies  that  once  asking  was  suffi- 
cient ;  but  evidently  there  was  the  "  beseeching  "  look 
and  tone  of  a  mingled  love  and  fear.  Jesus  responds 
instantly ;  for  can  He  come  fresh  from  the  healing  of 
a  stranger,  to  allow  a  dread  shadow  to  darken  the 
home  and  the  hearts  of  His  own  ?  Seeking  the  sick 
chamber,  He  bends  over  the  fever-stricken  one,  and 
taking  her  hand  in  His  (Mark  i.  31),  He  speaks  some 
word  of  command,  "  rebuking  the  ifever,"  as  St.  Luke 
expresses  it.  In  a  moment  the  fatal  fire  is  quenched, 
the  throbbing  heart  regains  its  normal  beat,  a  delicious 
coolness  takes  the  place  of  the  burning  heat,  while 
the  fever-flush  steals  away  to  make  place  for  the  bloom 
of  health.  The  cure  was  perfect  and  instant.  The 
lost  strength  returned,  and  ''  immediately  she  arose 
and  ministered  unto  them,"  preparing,  doubtless,  the 
evening  meal. 

May  we  not  throw  the  light  of  this  narrative  upon 
one  of  the  questions  of  the  day  ?  Men  speak  of  the 
rtign  of  law,  and  the  drift  of  modern  scientific  thought 


A   SABBATH  IN  GAULEE.  159 

is  against  any  interference — even  Divine — with  the 
ordinary  operations  of  physical  law.  As  the  visible 
universe  is  opened  up  and  explored  the  heavens  are 
crowded  back  and  back,  until  they  seem  nothing  but 
a  golden  mist,  some  distant  dream.  Nature's  laws  art 
seen  to  be  so  uniform,  so  ruthlessly  exact,  that  certain 
of  those  who  should  be  teachers  of  a  higher  faith  are 
suggesting  the  impossibihty  of  any  interference  with 
their  ordinary  operations.  "  You  do  but  waste  your 
breath,"  they  say,  **  in  asking  for  any  immunities  from 
Nature's  penalties,  or  for  any  deviation  from  her  fixed 
rules.  They  are  invariable,  inviolate.  Be  content 
rather  to  be  conformed,  mentally  and  morally,  to  God's 
will."  But  is  prayer  to  have  so  restricted  an  area? 
is  the  physical  world  to  be  buried  so  deep  in  "law" 
that  it  shall  give  no  rest  to  prayer,  not  even  for  the 
sole  of  her  foot  ?  Entire  conformity  to  God's  will  is, 
indeed,  the  highest  aim  and  privilege  of  life,  and  he 
who  prays  the  most  seeks  most  for  this ;  but  has  God 
no  will  in  the  world  of  physics,  in  the  realm  of  matter  ? 
Shall  we  push  Him  back  to  the  narrow  ledge  of  a 
primal  Genesis?  or  shall  we  leave  Him  chained  to 
that  frontier  coast,  another  Prometheus  bound  ?  It  is 
well  to  respect  and  to  honour  law,  but  Nature's  laws 
are  complex,  manifold.  They  can  form  combinations 
numberless,  working  different  or  opposite  results.  He 
who  searches  for  "  the  springs  of  life  "  will 

"  Reach  the  law  within  the  law  ;  * 

and  who  can  tell  whether  there  is  not  a  law  of  prayer 
and  faith,  thrown  by  the  Unseen  Hand  across  all  the 
warp  of  created  things,  binding  "the  whole  round 
earth  "  about  "  the  feet  of  God  "  ?  Reason  says,  "  It 
might  be  so,"  and  Scripture  says,  "  It  is  so."     Was 


iflo  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

Jesus  angry  when  they  told  Him  of  the  fever-stricken, 
and  they  implored  His  intervention  ?  Did  He  say, 
"You  mistake  My  mission.  I  must  not  interfere  with 
the  course  of  the  fever;  it  must  have  its  range.  If 
she  lives,  she  lives;  and  if  she  dies,  she  dies;  and 
whether  the  one  or  the  other,  you  must  be  patient, 
you  must  be  content "  ?  But  such  were  not  the  words 
of  Jesus,  with  their  latent  fatalism.  He  neard  the 
prayer,  and  at  once  granted  it,  not  by  annulling 
Nature's  laws,  nor  even  suspending  them,  but  by  intro- 
ducing a  higher  law.  Even  though  the  fever  was  the 
result  of  natural  causes,  and  though  it  probably  might 
have  been  prevented,  had  they  but  drained  the  marsh 
or  planted  it  with  the  eucalyptus,  yet  this  does  not 
shut  out  all  interventions  of  Divine  mercy.  The  Divine 
compassion  makes  some  allowance  for  our  human 
ignorance,  when  it  is  not  wilful,  and  for  our  human 
impotence. 

The  fever  "  left  her,  and  immediately  she  rose  up 
and  ministered  unto  them."  Yes,  and  there  are  fevers 
of  the  spirit  as  well  as  of  the  flesh,  when  the  heart 
is  quick  and  flurried,  the  brain  hot  with  anxious 
thought,  when  the  fret  and  jar  of  life  seem  eating  our 
strength  away,  and  our  disquiet  spirit  finds  its  rest 
broken  by  the  pressure  of  some  fearful  nightmare.  And 
how  soon  does  this  soul-fever  strike  us  down  I  how 
it  unfits  us  for  our  ministry  of  blessing,  robbing  us  of 
the  "heart  at  leisure  from  itself,"  and  filling  the  soul 
with  sad,  distressing  fears,  until  our  life  seems  like 
the  helpless,  withered  leaf,  whirled  and  tossed  hither 
and  thither  by  the  wind  1  For  the  fever  of  the  body 
there  may  not  always  be  relief,  but  for  the  fever  of 
the  spirit  there  is  a  possible  and  a  perfect  cure.  It  is 
the  touch  of  Jesus.     A  close  personal  contact  with  the 


A   SABBATH  IN  GAULEE,  i6i 

living  and  loving  Christ  will  rebuke  the  fever  of  your 
heart ;  it  will  give  to  your  soul  a  quietness  and  rest- 
fulness  that  are  Divine ;  and  with  the  touch  of  His 
omnipotence  upon  you,  and  with  all  the  elation  of  con- 
scious strength,  you  too  will  arise  into  a  nobler  life, 
a  life  which  will  find  its  supremest  joy  in  ministering 
unto  others,  and  so  ministering  unto  Him. 

Such  was  the  Sabbath  in  Galilee  in  which  Jesus 
began  His  miracles  of  healing.  But  if  it  saw  the 
beginning  of  His  miracles,  it  did  not  see  their  end ; 
for  soon  as  the  sun  had  set,  and  the  Sabbath  restraint 
was  over,  "all  that  had  any  sick  with  divers  diseases 
brought  them  unto  Him,  and  He  laid  His  hands  on 
every  one  of  them,  and  healed  them."  A  marvellous 
ending  of  a  marvellous  day  I  Jesus  throws  out  by 
handfuls  His  largesse  of  blessing,  health,  which  is  the 
highest  wealth,  showing  that  there  is  no  end  to  His 
power,  as  there  is  no  limit  to  His  love ;  that  His  will 
is  supreme  over  all  forces  and  all  laws;  that  He  is, 
and  ever  will  be,  the  perfect  Saviour,  binding  up  the 
broken  in  heart,  assuaging  all  griefs,  and  healing  all 
wounds  I 


CHAPiER   X. 
THE  CALUNG  OF  THE  FOUR, 

WHEN  Peter  and  his  companions  had  the  interview 
with  Jesus  by  the  Jordan,  and  were  summoned 
to  follow  Him,  it  was  the  designation,  rather  than  the 
appointment,  to  the  Apostleship.  They  did  accompany 
Him  to  Cana,  and  thence  to  Capernaum ;  but  here  their 
paths  diverged  for  a  time,  Jesus  passing  on  alone  to 
Nazareth,  while  the  novitiate  disciples  fall  back  again 
into  the  routine  of  secular  life.  Now,  however,  His 
mission  is  fairly  inaugurated,  and  He  must  attach  them 
permanently  to  His  person.  He  must  lay  His  hand, 
where  His  thoughts  have  long  been,  upon  the  future, 
making  provision  for  the  stability  and  permanence  of 
His  work,  that  so  the  kingdom  may  survive  and 
flourish  when  the  Ascension  clouds  have  made  the 
King  Himself  invisible. 

St.  Matthew  and  St  Mark  insert  their  abridged 
narrative  of  the  call  before  the  healing  of  the  demoniac 
and  the  cure  of  Peter's  mother-in-law ;  and  most  expo- 
sitors think  that  St.  Luke's  setting  *'  in  order,"  in  this 
case  at  least,  is  wrong ;  that  he  has  preferred  to  have  a 
chronological  inaccuracy,  so  that  His  miracles  may  be 
gathered  into  related  groups.  But  that  our  Evangelist 
is  in  error  is  by  no  means  certain;  indeed,  we  are 
inclined  to  think  that  the  balance  of  probability  is  on 
the  side  of  his  arrangement    How  else  shall  we  account 


THE   CALLING   OF  THE  FOUR,  163 

for  the  crowds  who  now  press  upon  Jesus  so  importu- 
nately and  with  such  GaHlean  ardour  ?  It  was  not  the 
rumour  of  His  Judaean  miracles  which  had  awoke  this 
tempest  of  excitement,  for  the  journey  to  Jerusalem  was 
not  yet  taken.  And  what  else  could  it  be,  if  the  miracu- 
lous draught  of  fishes  was  the  first  of  the  Capernaum 
miracles?  But  suppose  that  we  retain  the  order  of 
St.  Luke,  that  the  call  followed  closely  upon  that 
memorable  Sabbath,  then  the  crowds  fall  into  the  story 
naturally;  it  is  the  multitude  which  had  gathered  about 
the  door  when  the  Sabbath  sun  had  set,  putting  an 
after-glow  upon  the  hills,  and  on  whose  sick  He 
wrought  His  miracles  of  healing.  Nor  does  the  fact 
that  Jesus  went  to  be  a  guest  in  Peter's  house  require 
us  to  invert  the  order  of  St.  Luke;  for  the  casual 
acquaintance  by  the  Jordan  had  since  ripened  into 
intimacy,  so  that  Peter  would  naturally  offer  hospitality 
to  his  Master  on  His  coming  to  Capernaum.  Again,  too, 
going  back  to  the  Sabbath  in  the  synagogue,  we  read 
how  they  were  astonished  at  His  doctrine ;  "  for  His 
word  was  with  authority ; "  and  when  that  astonishment 
was  heightened  into  amazement,  as  they  saw  the  demon 
cowled  and  silenced,  this  was  their  exclamation,  "  What 
a  word  is  this  I "  And  does  not  Peter  refer  to  this,  when 
the  same  voice  that  commanded  the  demon  now  com- 
mands them  to  "Let  down  the  nets,"  and  he  answers, 
"  At  Thy  word  I  will "  ?  It  certainly  seems  as  if  the 
"  word "  of  the  sea-shore  were  an  echo  from  the 
synagogue,  and  so  a  "word"  that  justifies  the  order  of 
our  Evangelist. 

It  was  probably  still  early  in  the  morning — for  the 
days  of  Jesus  began  back  at  the  dawn,  and  very  often 
before — when  He  sought  the  quiet  of  the  sea-shore, 
possibly  to  find  a  still  hour  for  devotion,  or  perhaps  to 


i64  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

see  how  His  friends  had  fared  with  their  all-night 
fishing.  Little  quiet,  however,  could  He  find,  for  from 
Capernaum  and  Bethsaida  comes  a  hurrying  and  intru- 
sive crowd,  surging  around  Him  with  the  swirl  and 
roar  of  confused  voices,  and  pressing  inconveniently 
near.  Not  that  the  crowd  was  hostile ;  it  was  a  friendly 
but  inquisitive  multitude,  eager,  not  so  much  to  see  a 
repetition  of  His  miracles,  as  to  hear  Him  speak,  in 
those  rare,  sweet  accents,  "the  word  of  God."  The 
expression  characterizes  the  whole  teaching  of  Jesus. 
Though  His  words  were  meant  for  earth,  for  human 
ears  and  for  human  hearts,  there  was  no  earthliness 
about  them.  On  the  topics  in  which  man  is  most 
exercised  and  garrulous,  such  as  local  or  national 
events,  Jesus  is  strangely  silent.  He  scarcely  gives 
them  a  passing  thought ;  for  what  were  the  events  of 
the  day  to  Him  who  was  "  before  Abraham,"  and  who 
saw  the  two  eternities  ?  what  to  Him  was  the  gossip 
of  the  hour,  how  Rome's  armies  marched  and  fought,  or 
how  "  the  dogs  of  faction  "  bayed  ?  To  His  mind  these 
were  but  as  dust  caught  in  the  eddies  of  the  wind.  The 
thoughts  of  Jesus  were  high.  Like  the  figures  of  the 
prophet's  vision,  they  had  feet  indeed,  so  that  they 
could  alight  and  rest  awhile  on  earthly  things— though 
even  here  they  only  touched  earth  at  points  which 
were  common  to  humanity,  and  they  were  winged,  too, 
having  the  sweep  of  the  lower  spaces  and  of  the  highest 
heavens.  And  so  there  was  a  heavenliness  upon  the 
words  of  Jesus,  and  a  sweetness,  as  if  celestial  har- 
monies were  imprisoned  within  them.  They  set  men 
looking  upwards,  and  listening ;  for  the  heavens  seemed 
nearer  as  He  spoke,  and  they  were  no  longer  dumb. 
And  not  only  did  the  words  of  Jesus  bring  to  men  a  clearer 
revelation  of  God,  correcting  the  hard  views  which  man, 


THE  CALLING  OF  THE  FOUR,  163 

in  his  fears  and  his  sins,  had  formed  of  Him,  but  men 
felt  the  Divineness  of  His  speech ;  that  Jesus  was  the 
Bearer  of  a  new  evangel,  God's  latest  message  of  hope 
and  love.  And  He  was  the  Bearer  of  such  a  message , 
He  was  Himself  that  Evangel,  the  Word  of  God 
incarnate,  that  men  might  hear  of  heavenly  things  in 
the  common  accents  of  earthly  speech. 

Nor  was  Jesus  loth  to  deliver  His  message;  He 
needed  no  constraining  to  speak  of  the  things  pertaining 
to  the  kingdom  of  God.  Only  let  Him  see  the  listening 
heart,  the  void  of  a  sincere  longing,  and  His  speech 
distilled  as  the  dew.  And  so  no  time  was  to  Him 
inopportune;  the  break  of  day,  the  noon,  the  night 
were  all  alike  to  Him.  No  place  was  out  of  harmony 
with  His  message — the  Temple-court,  the  synagogue, 
the  domestic  hearth,  the  mountain,  the  lake-shore ;  He 
consecrated  all  alike  with  the  music  of  His  speech. 
Nay,  even  upon  the  cross,  amid  its  agonies,  He  opens 
His  lips  once  more,  though  parched  with  terrible  thirst, 
to  speak  peace  within  a  penitent  soul,  and  to  open  for  it 
the  gate  of  Paradise. 

Drawn  up  on  the  shore,  close  by  the  water^s  edge, 
are  two  boats,  empty  now,  for  Simon  and  his  partners 
are  busy  washing  their  nets,  after  their  night  of  fruitless 
toil.  Seeking  for  freer  space  than  the  pushing  crowd 
will  allow  Him,  and  also  wanting  a  point  of  vantage, 
where  His  voice  will  command  a  wider  range  of 
listeners,  Jesus  gets  into  Simon's  boat,  and  requests 
him  to  put  out  a  little  from  the  land.  "  And  He  sat 
down,  and  taught  the  multitudes  out  of  the  boat," 
assuming  the  posture  of  the  teacher,  even  though  the 
occasion  partook  so  largely  of  the  impromptu  character. 
When  He  dispensed  the  material  bread  He  made  the 
multitudes  "sit  down;"  but  when  He  dispensed  the 


i66  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

living  bread,  the  heavenly  manna,  He  left  the  multitudes 
standing,  while  He  Himself  sat  down,  so  claiming  the 
authority  of  a  Master,  as  His  posture  emphasized  His 
words.  It  is  somewhat  singular  that  when  our  Evan- 
gelist has  been  so  careful  and  minute  in  his  description 
of  the  scene,  giving  us  a  sort  of  photograph  of  that  lake- 
side group,  with  bits  of  artistic  colouring  thrown  in, 
that  then  he  should  omit  entirely  the  subject-matter  of 
the  discourse.  But  so  he  does,  and  we  try  in  vain  to 
fill  up  the  blank.  Did  He,  as  at  Nazareth,  turn  the 
lamps  of  prophecy  full  upon  Himself,  and  tell  them 
how  the  "  great  Light "  had  at  last  risen  upon  Galilee 
of  the  nations  ?  or  did  He  let  His  speech  reflect  the 
shimmer  of  the  lake,  as  He  told  in  parable  how  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  was  *'  like  unto  a  net  that  was  cast 
into  the  sea,  and  gathered  of  every  kind  "  ?  Possibly 
He  did,  but  His  words,  whatever  they  were,  **hke  the 
pipes  of  Pan,  died  with  the  ears  and  hearts  of  those 
who  heard  them." 

''  When  He  had  left  speaking,"  having  dismissed  the 
multitude  with  His  benediction,  He  turns  to  give  to  His 
future  disciples,  Peter  and  Andrew,  a  private  lesson. 
"  Put  out  into  the  deep,"  He  said,  including  Andrew 
now  in  His  plural  imperative,  "  and  let  down  your  nets 
for  a  draught."  It  was  a  commanding  voice,  altogether 
different  in  its  tone  from  the  last  words  He  addressed 
to  Peter,  when  He  **  requested  "  him  to  put  out  a  little 
from  the  land.  Then  He  spoke  as  the  Friend,  possibly 
the  Guest,  with  a  certain  amount  of  deference ;  now  He 
steps  up  to  a  very  throne  of  power,  a  throne  which  in 
Peter's  life  He  never  more  abdicates.  Simon  recognizes 
the  altered  conditions,  that  a  Higher  Will  is  now  in  the 
boat,  where  hitherto  his  own  will  has  been  supreme ; 
and  saluting  Him  as  "  Master,"  he  says,  **  We  toiled  aU 


THE  CALLING  OF  THE  FOUR,  167 

nighty  and  took  nothing;  but  at  Thy  word  I  will  let 
down  the  nets."  He  does  not  demur;  he  does  not 
hesitate  one  moment.  Though  himself  weary  with  his 
night-long  labours,  and  though  the  command  of  the 
Master  went  directly  against  his  nautical  experiences, 
he  sinks  his  thoughts  and  his  doubts  in  the  word  of 
his  Lord.  It  is  true  he  speaks  of  the  failure  of  the 
night,  how  they  have  taken  nothing;  but  instead  of 
making  that  a  plea  for  hesitancy  and  doubt,  it  is  the 
foil  to  make  his  unquestioning  faith  stand  out  in  bolder 
rehef.  Peter  was  the  man  of  impulse,  the  man  of 
action,  with  a  swift-beating  heart  and  an  ever-ready 
hand.  To  his  forward-stepping  mind  decision  was 
easy  and  immediate ;  and  so,  almost  before  the  com- 
mand was  completed,  his  swift  lips  had  made  answer, 
*'  I  will  let  down  the  nets."  It  was  the  language  of  a 
prompt  and  full  obedience.  It  showed  that  Simon's 
nature  was  responsive  and  genuine,  that  when  a 
Christly  word  struck  upon  his  soul  it  set  his  whole 
being  vibrating,  and  drove  out  all  meaner  thoughts. 
He  had  learned  to  obey,  which  was  the  first  lesson  of 
discipleship ;  and  having  learned  to  obey,  he  was  there- 
fore fit  to  rule,  qualified  for  leadership,  and  worthy  of 
being  entrusted  with  the  keys  of  the  kingdom. 

And  how  much  is  missed  in  life  through  feebleness 
of  resolve,  a  lack  of  decision  I  How  many  are  the 
invertebrate  souls,  lacking  in  will  and  void  of  purpose, 
who,  instead  of  piercing  waves  and  conquering  the 
flow  of  adverse  tides,  like  the  medusae,  can  only  drift, 
all  limp  and  languid,  in  the  current  of  circumstance ! 
Such  men  do  not  make  apostles ;  they  are  but  ciphers 
of  flesh  and  blood,  of  no  value  by  themselves,  and  only 
of  any  worth  as  they  are  attached  to  the  unit  of  some 
stronger   wilL     A  poor  broken   thing   is  a  life  spent 


|68  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

in  the  subjunctive  mood,  among  the  "mights"  and 
"  shoulds/'  where  the  "  I  will "  waits  upon  "  I  would  " ! 
That  is  the  truest,  worthiest  life  that  is  divided  be- 
tween the  indicative  and  the  imperative.  As  in  shak- 
ing pebbles  the  smaller  ones  drop  down  to  the  bottom, 
their  place  determined  by  their  size,  so  in  the  shaking 
together  of  human  lives,  in  the  rub  and  jostle  of  the 
world,  the  strong  wills  invariably  come  to  the  top. 

And  how  much  do  even  Christians  lose,  through 
their  partial  or  their  slow  obedience  1  How  we  hesitate 
and  question,  when  our  duty  is  simply  to  obey  !  How 
we  cling  to  our  own  ways,  modes,  and  wills,  when  the 
Christ  is  commanding  us  forward  to  some  higher 
service  I  How  strangely  we  forget  that  in  the  grammar 
of  life  the  **  Thou  wiliest "  should  be  the  first  person, 
and  the  "  I  will  "  a  far-off  second  I  When  the  soldier 
hears  the  word  of  command  he  becomes  deaf  to  all 
other  voices,  even  the  voice  of  danger,  or  the  voice  of 
death  itself;  and  when  Christ  speaks  to  us  His  word 
should  completely  fill  the  soul,  leaving  no  room  for 
hesitancy,  no  place  for  doubt.  Said  the  mother  to  the 
servants  of  Cana,  "  Whatsoever  He  saith  unto  you,  do 
it."  That  "  whatsoever  "  is  the  line  of  duty/  and  the 
line  of  beauty  too.  He  who  makes  Christ's  will  his 
will,  who  does  implicitly  '*  whatsoever  He  saith,"  will 
find  a  Cana  anywhere,  where  life's  water  turns  to 
wine,  and  where  life's  common  things  are  exalted  into 
sacraments.  He  who  walks  up  to  the  light  will  surely 
walk  in  the  light. 

We  can  imagine  with  what  alacrity  Simon  obeys 
the  Master's  word,  and  how  the  disappointment  of  the 
night  and  all  sense  of  fatigue  are  lost  in  the  exhilaration 
of  the  new  hopes.  Seconded  by  the  more  quiet  Andrew, 
who  catches  the  enthusiasm  of  his  brother's  faith,  he 


THE   CALLING   OF  THE  FOUR.  169 

pulls  out  into  deep  water,  where  they  let  down  the 
nets.  Immediately  they  enclosed  "  a  great  multitude  ** 
of  fishes,  a  weight  altogether  beyond  their  power  to 
lift ;  and  as  they  saw  the  nets  beginning  to  give  way 
with  the  strain,  Peter  "beckoned"  to  his  partners, 
James  and  John,  whose  boat,  probably,  was  still  drawn 
up  on  the  shore.  Coming  to  their  assistance,  together 
they  secured  the  spoil,  completely  filling  the  two  boats, 
until  they  were  in  danger  of  sinking  with  the  over- 
weight. 

Here,  then,  we  find  a  miracle  of  a  new  order.  Hitherto, 
in  the  narrative  of  our  Evangelist,  Jesus  has  shown  His 
supernatural  power  only  in  connection  with  humanity, 
driving  away  the  ills  and  diseases  which  preyed  upon 
the  human  body  and  the  human  soul.  And  not  even 
here  did  Jesus  make  use  of  that  power  randomly, 
making  it  common  and  cheap ;  it  was  called  forth  by 
the  constraint  of  a  great  need  and  a  great  desire. 
Now,  however,  there  is  neither  the  desire  nor  the  need. 
It  was  not  the  first  time,  nor  was  it  to  be  the  last,  that 
Peter  and  Andrew  had  spent  a  night  in  fruitless  toil. 
That  was  a  lesson  they  had  early  to  learn,  and  which 
they  were  never  allowed  long  to  forget.  They  had 
been  quite  content  to  leave  their  boat,  as  indeed  they 
had  intended,  on  the  sands,  until  the  evening  should 
recall  them  to  their  task.  But  Jesus  volunteers  His 
help,  and  works  a  miracle — whether  of  omnipotence,  or 
omniscience,  or  of  both,  it  matters  not,  and  not  either 
to  relieve  some  present  distress,  or  to  still  some  pain, 
but  that  He  might  fill  the  empty  boats  with  fishes. 
We  must  not,  however,  assess  the  value  of  the  miracle 
at  the  market-price  of  the  take,  for  evidently  Jesus 
had  some  ulterior  motive  and  design.  As  the  leaden 
types,  lying  detached  and  meaningless  in  the  "  case,"  can 


17©  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

be  arrangtd  into  words  and  be  made  to  voice  the  very 
highest  thought,  so  these  boats  and  oars,  nets  and  fish 
are  but  so  many  characters,  the  Divine  "  code  "  as  we 
may  call  it,  spelling  out,  first  to  these  fishermen,  and 
then  to  mankind  in  general,  the  deep  thought  and 
purpose  of  Christ.  Can  we  discover  that  meaning? 
We  think  we  may. 

In  the  first  place,  the  miracle  shows  us  the  supremacy 
of  Christ.  We  may  almost  read  the  Divineness  of 
Christ's  mission  in  the  manner  of  its  manifestation. 
Had  Jesus  been  man  only,  His  thoughts  running  on 
human  lines,  and  His  plans  built  after  human  models, 
He  would  have  arranged  for  another  Epiphany  at  the 
beginning  of  His  ministry,  showing  His  credentials  at 
the  first,  and  announcing  in  full  the  purpose  of  His 
mission.  That  would  have  been  the  way  of  man,  fond 
as  he  is  of  surprises  and  sudden  transitions ;  but  such 
is  not  the  way  of  God.  The  forces  of  heaven  do  not 
move  forward  in  leaps  and  somersaults ;  their  ad- 
vances are  gradual  and  rhythmic.  Evolution,  and  not 
revolution,  is  the  Divine  law,  in  the  realm  of  matter 
and  of  mind  alike.  The  dawn  must  precede  the  day. 
And  just  so  the  life  of  the  Divine  Son  is  manifested. 
He  who  is  the  "  Light  of  the  world  "  comes  into  that 
world  softly  as  a  sunrise,  lighting  up  little  by  little 
the  horizon  of  His  disciples'  thought,  lest  a  revelation 
which  was  too  full  and  too  sudden  should  only  dazzle 
and  bUnd  them.  So  far  they  have  seen  Him  exercise 
His  power  over  diseases  and  demons,  or,  as  at  Cana, 
over  inorganic  matter ;  now  they  see  that  power  moving 
out  in  new  directions.  Jesus  sets  up  His  throne  to 
face  the  sea,  the  sea  with  which  they  were  so  familiar, 
and  over  which  they  claimed  some  sort  of  lordship. 
But  even  here,  upon  their  own  element,  Jesus  is  su- 


THE   CALUNG  OF  THE  FOUR.  171 

preme.  He  sees  what  they  do  not;  He  knows  these 
deeps,  filling  up  with  His  omniscience  the  blanks  they 
seek  to  fill  with  their  random  guesses.  Here,  hitherto, 
their  wills  have  been  all-powerful;  they  could  take 
their  boats  and  cast  their  nets  just  when  and  where 
they  would  ;  but  now  they  feel  the  touch  of  a  Higher 
Will,  and  Christ's  word  fills  their  hearts,  impelling  them 
onward,  even  as  their  boats  were  driven  of  the  wind. 
Jesus  now  assumes  the  command.  His  Will,  like  a 
magnet,  attracts  to  itself  and  controls  their  lesser  wills ; 
and  as  His  word  now  launches  out  the  boat  and  casts 
the  nets,  so  shortly,  at  that  same  "word,"  will  boats 
and  nets,  and  the  sea  itself,  be  left  behind. 

And  did  not  that  Divine  Will  move  beneath  the 
water  as  well  as  above  it,  controlling  the  movements 
of  the  shoal  of  fishes,  as  on  the  surface  it  was  con- 
trolling the  thoughts  and  moving  the  hands  of  the 
fishermen  ?  It  is  true  that  in  Gennesaret,  as  in  our 
modern  seas,  the  fish  sometimes  moved  in  such  dense 
shoals  that  an  enormous  "take"  would  be  an  event 
purely  natural,  a  wonder  indeed,  but  no  miracle. 
Possibly  it  was  so  here,  in  which  case  the  narrative 
would  resolve  itself  into  a  miracle  of  omniscience,  as 
Jesus  saw,  what  even  the  trained  eyes  of  the  fishermen 
had  not  seen,  the  movements  of  the  shoal,  then  regulating 
His  commands,  so  making  the  oars  above  and  the  fins 
below  strike  the  water  in  unison.  But  was  this  all  ? 
Evidently  not,  to  Peter's  mind,  at  any  rate.  Had  it 
been  all  to  him,  a  purely  natural  phenomenon,  or  had 
he  seen  in  it  only  the  prescience  of  Christ,  a  vision 
somewhat  clearer  and  farther  than  his  own,  it  would 
not  have  created  such  feelings  of  surprise  and  awe. 
He  might  still  have  wondered,  but  he  scarcely  would 
have  worshipped.     But  Peter  feels  himself  in  the  pre- 


ira  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUXE, 

sence  of  a  Power  that  knows  no  limit,  One  who  hat 
supreme  authority  over  diseases  and  demons,  and  who 
now  commands  even  the  fishes  of  the  sea.  In  this 
sudden  wealth  of  spoil  he  reads  the  majesty  and  glory 
of  the  new-found  Christ,  whose  word,  spoken  or 
unspoken,  is  omnipotent,  alike  in  the  heights  above 
and  in  the  depths  beneath.  And  so  the  moment  his 
thoughts  are  disengaged  from  the  pressing  task  he 
prostrates  himself  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  crying  with 
awe-stricken  speech,  "  Depart  from  me ;  for  I  am  a 
sinful  man,  O  Lord  I "  We  are  not,  perhaps,  to  inter- 
pret this  literally,  for  Peter's  lips  were  apt  to  become 
tremulous  with  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  and  to 
say  words  which  in  a  cooler  mood  he  would  recall,  or 
at  least  modify.  So  here,  it  surely  was  not  his  mean- 
ing that  "  the  Lord,"  as  he  now  calls  Jesus,  should 
leave  him ;  for  how  indeed  should  He  depart,  now  that 
they  are  afloat  upon  the  deep,  far  from  land  ?  But 
such  had  been  the  revelation  of  the  power  and  holiness 
of  Jesus,  borne  in  by  the  miracle  upon  Peter's  soul, 
that  he  felt  himself  thrown  back,  morally  and  in  every 
way,  to  an  infinite  distance  from  Christ.  His  boat  was 
unworthy  to  carry,  as  the  house  of  the  centurion  was 
unworthy  to  receive,  such  infinite  perfections  as  now  he 
saw  in  Jesus.  It  was  an  apocalypse  indeed,  revealing, 
together  with  the  purity  and  power  of  Christ,  the 
littleness,  the  nothingness  of  his  sinful  self;  that,  as 
Elijah  covered  his  face  when  the  Lord  passed  by,  so 
Peter  feels  as  if  he  ought  to  draw  the  veil  of  an  infinite 
distance  around  himself — the  distance  which  would 
ever  be  between  him  and  the  Lord,  were  not  His 
mercy  and  His  love  just  as  infinite  as  His  power. 

The  fuller  meaning  of  the  miracle,  however,  becomes 
apparent  when  we  interpret  it  in  the  light  of  the  call 


THE  CALLING   OF  THE  FOUR.  173 

which  immediately  followed.  Reading  the  sudden  fear 
which  has  come  over  Peter's  soul,  and  which  has 
thrown  his  speech  somewhat  into  confusion,  Jesus  first 
stills  the  agitation  of  his  heart  by  a  word  of  assur- 
ance and  of  cheer.  "  Fear  not,"  He  says,  for  "  from 
henceforth  thou  shalt  catch  men."  It  will  be  observed 
that  St.  Luke  puts  the  commission  of  Christ  in  the 
singular  number,  as  addressed  to  Peter  alone,  while 
St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  put  it  in  the  plural,  as  in- 
cluding Andrew  as  well :  "  I  will  make  you  to  become 
fishers  of  men."  The  difference,  however,  is  but  im- 
material, and  possibly  the  reason  why  St.  Luke  intro- 
duces the  Apostle  Peter  with  such  a  frequent  nomina- 
tion— for  "  Simon  "  is  a  familiar  name  in  these  early 
chapters — making  his  call  so  emphatic  and  prominent, 
was  because  in  the  partisan  times  which  came  but  too 
early  in  the  Church  the  Gentile  Christians,  for  whom 
our  Evangelist  is  writing,  might  think  unworthily  and 
speak  disparagingly  of  him  who  was  the  Apostle  of 
the  Circumcision.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Simon  and 
Andrew  are  now  summoned  to,  and  commissioned  for, 
a  higher  service.  That  "  henceforth "  strikes  across 
their  life  like  a  high  watershed,  severing  the  old  from 
the  new,  their  future  from  their  past,  and  throwing  all 
the  currents  of  their  thoughts  and  plans  into  different 
and  opposite  directions.  They  are  to  be  '*  fishers  of 
men,"  and  Jesus,  who  so  delights  in  giving  object- 
lessons  to  His  disciples,  uses  the  miracle  as  a  sort  of 
background,  on  which  He  may  write  their  commission 
in  large  and  lasting  characters;  it  is  the  Divine  seal 
upon  their  credentials. 

Not  that  they  understood  the  full  purport  of  His 
words  at  once.  The  phrase  "  fishers  of  men  "  was  one 
of  those  seed-thoughts  which  needed  pondering  in  the 


174  THE   GOSPEL    OF  ST.    LUKE. 

heart ;  it  would  gradually  unfold  itself  in  the  after- 
months  of  discipleship,  ripening  at  last  in  the  summer 
heat  and  summer  light  of  the  Pentecost.  They  were 
now  to  be  fishers  of  the  higher  art,  their  quest  the  souls 
of  men.  This  must  now  be  the  one  object,  the  supreme 
aim  of  their  life,  a  life  now  ennobled  by  a  higher  call. 
Plans,  journeys,  thoughts,  and  words,  all  must  bear  the 
stamp  of  their  great  commission,  which  is  to  "  catch 
men,"  not  unto  death,  however,  as  the  fish  expire  when 
taken  from  their  native  element,  but  unto  life — for  such 
is  the  meaning  of  the  word.  And  to  "  iake  them  alive  " 
is  to  save  them ;  it  is  to  take  them  out  of  an  element 
which  stifles  and  destroys,  and  to  draw  them,  by  the 
constraints  of  truth  and  love,  within  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  which  kingdom  is  righteousness  and  life,  even 
eternal  life. 

But  if  the  full  meaning  of  the  Master's  words  grows 
upon  them — an  aftermath  to  be  harvested  in  later 
months — enough  is  understood  to  make  the  line  of 
present  duty  plain.  That  *^  henceforth  "  is  clear,  sharp, 
and  imperative.  It  leaves  room  neither  for  excuse  nor 
postponement.  And  so  immediately,  "  when  they  had 
brought  their  boats  to  land,  they  left  all  and  followed 
Him,"  to  learn  by  following  how  they  too  might  be 
winners  of  souls,  and  in  a  lesser,  lower  sense,, saviours 
of  men. 

The  story  of  St.  Luke  closes  somewhat  abruptly, 
with  no  further  reference  to  Simon's  partners;  and 
having  "  beckoned "  them  into  his  central  scene,  and 
filled  their  boat,  then,  as  in  a  dissolving-view,  the  pen 
of  our  EvangeHst  draws  around  them  the  haze  of 
silence,  and  they  disappear.  The  other  Synoptists, 
however,  fill  up  the  blank,  telling  how  Jesus  came  to 
them,  probably  later  l:i  the  day,  for  they  were  mending 


THE  CALUNG  OF  THE  FOUR.  175 

the  nets,  which  had  been  tangled  and  somewh'at  torn 
with  the  weight  of  spoil  they  had  just  taken.  Speaking 
no  word  of  explanation,  and  giving  no  word  of  promise, 
He  simply  says,  with  that  commanding  voice  of  His, 
'*  Follow  Me,"  thus  putting  Himself  above  all  associa- 
tions and  all  relationships,  as  Leader  and  Lord.  James 
and  John  recognize  the  call,  for  which  doubtless  they 
had  been  prepared,  as  being  for  themselves  alone,  and 
instantly  leaving  the  father,  the  "  hired  servants,"  and 
the  half-mended  nets,  and  breaking  utterly  with  their 
past,  they  follow  Jesus,  giving  to  Him,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  one  dark,  hesitating  hour,  a  life-long  devotion. 
And  forsaking  all,  the  four  disciples  found  all.  They 
exchanged  a  dead  self  for  a  living  Christ,  earth  for 
heaven.  Following  the  Lord  fully,  with  no  side- 
glances  at  self  or  selfish  gain — at  any  rate  after  the 
enduement  and  the  enlightenment  of  Pentecost — they 
found  in  the  presence  and  friendship  of  the  Lord  the 
"  hundredfold  "  in  the  present  life.  Allying  themselves 
with  Christ,  they  too  rose  with  the  rising  Sun.  Ob- 
scure fishermen,  they  wrote  their  names  among  the 
immortals  as  the  first  Apostles  of  the  new  faith,  bearers 
of  the  *^  keys "  of  the  kingdom.  Following  Christ, 
they  led  the  world ;  and  as  the  Light  that  rose  over 
Galilee  of  the  nations  becomes  ever  more  intense  and 
bright,  so  it  makes  ever  more  intense  and  vivid  the 
shadows  of  these  Galilean  fishermen,  as  it  throws  them 
across  all  lands  and  times. 

And  such  even  now  is  the  truest  and  noblest  life. 
The  life  which  is  "  hid  with  Christ "  is  the  life  that 
shines  the  farthest  and  that  tells  the  most.  Whether 
in  the  more  quiet  paths  and  scenes  of  discipleship  or 
in  the  more  responsible  and  public  duties  of  the  apos- 
tolate,  Jesus  demands  of  us  a  true,  whole-souled,  and 


I|<  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE, 

life-long  devotion.  And,  here  indeed,  the  paradox  is 
true,  for  by  losing  life  we  find  it,  even  the  life  more 
abundant;  for 

"  Men  may  rise  on  stepping-stones 
Of  their  dead  selves  to  higher  things.* 

Nay,  they  may  attain  to  the  highest  things,  even  to  the 
highest  heavens. 


CHAPTER  XL 

CONCERNING  PRAYER, 

WHEN  the  Greeks  called  man  o  avOpamo^y  or  the 
"  uplooking  one,"  they  did  but  crystallize  in  a 
word  what  is  a  universal  fact,  the  religious  instinct  of 
humanity.  Everywhere,  and  through  all  times,  man 
has  felt,  as  by  a  sort  of  intuition,  that  earth  was  no 
Ultima  Thule,  with  nothing  beyond  but  oceans  of 
vacancy  and  silence,  but  that  it  lay  in  the  over-shadow 
of  other  worlds,  between  which  and  their  own  were 
subtle  modes  of  correspondence.  They  felt  themselves 
to  be  in  the  presence  of  Powers  other  and  higher  than 
human,  who  somehow  influenced  their  destiny,  whose 
favour  they  must  win,  and  whose  displeasure  they  must 
avert  And  so  Paganism  reared  her  altars,  almost 
numberless,  dedicating  them  even  to  the  "  Unknown 
God,"  lest  some  anonymous  deity  should  be  grieved  at 
being  omitted  from  the  enumeration.  The  prevalence 
of  false  religions  in  the  world,  the  garrulous  babble  of 
mythology,  does  but  voice  the  religious  instinct  of 
man ;  it  is  but  another  Tower  of  Babel,  by  which  men 
hope  to  find  and  to  scale  the  heavens  which  must  be 
somewhere  overhead. 

In  the  Old  Testament,  however,  we  find  the  clearer 
revelation.  What  to  the  unaided  eye  of  reason  and  of 
BAturc  seemed  but  a  wave  of  golden  mist  athwart  the 

13 


378  THE   GUSPEL   CF  ST.   LUKE. 

sky — "  a  meeting  of  gentle  lights  without  a  name  " — now 
becomes  a  wide-reaching  and  shining  realm,  peopled 
with  intelligences  of  divers  ranks  and  orders  ;  while  in 
the  centre  of  all  is  the  city  and  the  throne  of  the  Invi- 
sible King,  Jehovah,  Lord  of  Sabaoth.  In  the  breath 
of  the  new  morning  the  gossamer  threads  Polytheism 
had  been  spinning  through  the  night  were  swept  away, 
and  on  the  pillars  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  that  celestial 
city  of  which  their  own  Salem  was  a  far-off  and  broken 
type,  they  read  the  inscription,  "  Hear,  O  Israel :  the 
Lord  our  God  is  one  Lord."  But  while  the  Old  Testa- 
ment revealed  the  unity  of  the  Godhead,  it  emphasized 
especially  His  sovereignty,  the  glories  of  His  holiness, 
and  the  thunders  of  His  power.  He  is  the  great 
Creator,  arranging  His  universe,  commanding  evolu- 
tions and  revolutions,  and  giving  to  each  molecule  of 
matter  its  secret  affinities  and  repulsions.  And  again 
He  is  the  Lawgiver,  the  great  Judge,  speaking  out  of 
the  cloudy  pillar  and  the  windy  tempest,  dividing  the 
firmaments  of  Right  and  Wrong,  whose  holiness  hates 
sin  with  an  infinite  hatred,  and  whose  justice,  with 
sword  of  flame,  pursues  the  wrong-doer  like  an  unfor- 
getting  Nemesis.  It  is  only  natural,  therefore,  that  with 
such  conceptions  of  God,  the  heavens  should  appear 
distant  and  somewhat  cold.  The  quiet  that  was  upon 
the  world  was  the  hush  of  awe,  of  fear,  rather  than  of 
love ;  for  while  the  goodness  of  God  was  a  familiar  and 
favourite  theme,  and  while  the  mercy  of  God,  which 
"  endureth  for  ever,"  was  the  refrain,  oft  repeated,  of 
their  loftiest  songs,  the  love  of  God  was  a  height  the 
Old  Dispensation  had  not  explored,  and  the  Father- 
hood of  God,  that  new  world  of  perpetual  summer,  lay 
all  undiscovered,  or  but  dimly  apprehended  through  the 
mist.      The  Divine  love  and  the  Divine  Fatherhood 


CONCERNING  PRAYER,  179 

were  truths  which  seemed  to  be  held  in  reserve  for  the 
New  Dispensation ;  and  as  the  Hght  needs  the  subtle 
and  sympathetic  ether  before  it  can  reach  our  outlying 
world,  so  the  love  and  the  Fatherhood  of  God  are 
borne  in  upon  us  by  Him  who  was  Himself  the  Divine 
Son  and  the  incarnation  of  the  Divine  love. 

It  is  just  here  where  the  teaching  of  Jesus  concerning 
prayer  begins.  He  does  not  seek  to  explain  its  philo- 
sophy ;  He  does  not  give  hints  as  to  any  observance 
of  time  or  place ;  but  leaving  these  questions  to  adjust 
themselves,  He  seeks  to  bring  heaven  into  closer  touch 
with  earth.  And  how  can  He  do  this  so  well  as  by 
revealing  the  Fatherhood  of  God  ?  When  the  electric 
wire  linked  the  New  with  the  Old  World  the  distances 
were  annihilated,  the  thousand  leagues  of  sea  were  as 
if  they  were  not ;  and  when  Jesus  threw  across,  between 
earth  and  heaven,  that  word  *'  Father,"  the  wide  dis- 
tances vanished,  and  even  the  silences  became  vocal. 
In  the  Psalms,  those  loftiest  utterances  of  devotion, 
Religion  only  once  ventured  to  call  God  "Father;" 
and  then,  as  if  frightened  at  her  own  temerity,  she 
lapses  into  silence,  and  never  speaks  the  familiar  word 
again.  But  how  different  the  language  of  the  Gospels  1 
It  is  a  name  that  Jesus  is  never  weary  of  repeating, 
striking  its  music  upwards  of  seventy  times,  as  if  by 
the  frequent  iteration  He  would  lodge  the  heavenly 
word  deep  within  the  world's  heart.  This  is  His  first 
lesson  in  the  science  of  prayer :  He  drills  them  on  the 
Divine  Fatherhood,  setting  them  on  that  word,  as  it 
were,  to  practise  the  scales  ;  for  as  he  who  has  practised 
well  the  scales  has  acquired  the  key  to  all  harmonies, 
so  he  who  has  learned  well  the  ** Father"  has  learned 
the  secret  of  heaven,  the  sesame  that  opens  all  its  doors 
and  unlocks  all  its  treasures. 


i8o  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

"  When  ye  pray,"  said  Jesus,  replying  to  a  disciple 
who  sought  instruction  in  the  heavenly  language,  "  say, 
Father,"  thus  giving  us  what  was  His  own  pass- word 
to  the  courts  of  heaven.  It  is  as  if  He  said,  "  If  you 
would  pray  acceptably  put  yourself  in  the  right  position. 
Seek  to  realize,  and  then  to  claim,  your  true  relationship. 
Do  not  look  upon  God  as  a  distant  and  cold  abstraction, 
or  as  some  blind  force ;  do  not  regard  Him  as  being 
hostile  to  you  or  as  careless  about  you.  Else  your 
prayer  will  be  some  wail  of  bitterness,  a  cry  coming  out 
of  the  dark,  and  losing  itself  in  the  dark  again.  But 
look  upon  God  as  your  Father,  your  living,  loving,  hea- 
venly Father;  and  then  step  up  with  a  holy  boldness  into 
the  child-place,  and  all  heaven  opens  before  you  there." 

And  not  only  does  Jesus  thus  "  show  us  the  Father," 
but  He  takes  pains  to  show  us  that  it  is  a  real,  and  not 
some  fictitious  Fatherhood.  He  tells  us  that  the  word 
means  far  more  in  its  heavenly  than  in  its  earthly  use ; 
that  the  earthly  meaning,  in  fact,  is  but  a  shadow  of  the 
heavenly.  For  "  if  ye  then,"  He  says,  "  being  evil, 
know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children :  how 
much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  the  Holy 
Spirit  to  them  that  ask  Him?"  He  thus  sets  us  a 
problem  in  Divine  proportion.  He  gives  us  the  human 
fatherhood,  with  all  it  implies,  as  our  known  quantities, 
and  from  these  He  leaves  us  to  work  out  the  unknown 
quantity,  which  is  the  Divine  ability  and  willingness 
to  give  good  gifts  to  men ;  for  the  Holy  Spirit  includes 
in  Himself  all  spiritual  gifts.  It  is  a  problem,  however, 
which  our  earthly  figures  cannot  solve.  The  nearest 
that  we  can  approach  to  the  answer  is  that  the  Divine 
Fatherhood  is  the  human  fatherhood  multiplied  by  that 
"  how  much  more  " — a  factor  which  give*  us  an  infinite 
series. 


CONCERNING  PRAYER.  l8i 

Again,  Jesus  teaches  that  character  is  an  important 
condition  of  prayer,   and  that  in   this  realm   heart  is 
more  than  any  art.     Words  alone  do  not  constitute 
prayer,  for  they  may  be  only  like  the  bubbles  of  the 
children's  play,  iridescent  but  hollow,  never  climbing 
the  sky,  but  returning  to  the  earth  whence  they  came. 
And  so  when  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  make  "long 
prayers,"  striking  devotional  attitudes,  and  putting  on 
airs  of  sanctity,  Jesus  could  not  endure  them.     They 
were  a  weariness  and   abomination  to  Him;    for  He 
read  their  secret  heart,  and  found  it  vain  and  proud. 
In  His  parable  (xviii.  1 1)  He  puts  the  genuine  and  the 
counterfeit   prayer   side   by   side,   drawing   the   sharp 
contrast  between  them.     He  gives  us  that  of  the  Pha- 
risee, wordy,  inflated,  full  of  the  self-eulogizing  "  I." 
It   is   the  prayerless  prayer,  that   had   no  need,  and 
which  was  simply  an  incense  burned  before  the  clayey 
image  of  himself     Then  He  gives  us  the  few   brief 
words  of  the  publican,  the  cry  of  a  broken  heart,  '*  God 
be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner,"  a  prayer  which  reached 
directly   the   highest   heaven,   and   which    came   back 
freighted  with  the  peace  of  God.     "  If  I  regard  iniquity 
in  my  heart,"  the  Psalmist  said,  "the  Lord  will  not 
hear  me."     And  it  is  true.     If  there  be  the  least  un- 
forgiven  sin  within  the  soul  we  spread  forth  our  hands, 
we  make  many  prayers,  in  vain ;  we  do  but  utter  "  wild, 
deliri  us  cries  "  that  Heaven  will  not  hear,  or  at  any 
rate  regard.     The  first  cry  of  true  prayer  is  the  cry  for 
mercy,  pardon ;  and  until  this  is  spoken,  until  we  step 
up  by  faith  into  the  child-position,  we  do  but  offer  vain 
oblations.     Nay,  even  in  the  regenerate  heart,  if  there 
be  a  temporary  lapse,  and  unholy  tempers  brood  within, 
the  lips  of  prayer  become  paralyzed  at  once,  or  they 
07  i  stammer  in  incoherent  speech.     We  may  with 


i83  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

filled  hands  compass  the  altar  of  God,  but  neither  gifts 
nor  prayers  can  be  accepted  if  there  be  bitterness  and 
jealousy  within,  or  if  our  "  brother  has  aught  against " 
us.  The  wrong  must  be  righted  with  our  brother,  or 
we  cannot  be  right  with  God.  How  can  we  ask  for 
forgiveness  if  we  ourselves  cannot  forgive  ?  How  can 
we  ask  for  mercy  if  we  are  hard  and  merciless,  grip- 
ping the  throat  of  each  offender,  as  we  demand  the 
uttermost  farthing  ?  He  who  can  pray  for  them  who 
despitefully  use  him  is  in  the  way  of  the  Divine  com- 
mandment ;  he  has  climbed  to  the  dome  of  the  temple, 
where  the  whispers  of  prayer,  and  even  its  inarticulate 
aspirations,  are  heard  in  heaven.  And  so  the  connec- 
tion is  most  close  and  constant  between  praying  and 
living,  and  they  pray  most  and  best  who  at  the  same 
time  **  make  their  life  a  prayer." 

Again,  Jesus  maps  out  for  us  the  realm  of  prayer, 
showing  the  wide  areas  it  should  cover.  St.  Luke 
gives  us  an  abbreviated  form  of  the  prayer  recorded 
by  St.  Matthew,  and  which  we  call  the  "  Lord's  Prayer." 
It  is  a  disputed  point,  though  not  a  material  one, 
whether  the  two  prayers  are  but  varied  renderings  of 
one  and  the  same  utterance,  or  whether  Jesus  gave, 
on  a  later  occasion,  an  epitomized  form  of  the  prayer 
He  had  prescribed  before,  though  from  the  circum- 
stantial evidence  of  St.  Luke  we  incline  to  the  latter 
view.  The  two  forms,  however,  are  identical  in  sub- 
stance. It  is  scarcely  likely  that  Jesus  intended  it  to 
be  a  rigid  formula,  to  which  we  should  be  slavishly 
bound  ;  for  the  varied  renderings  of  the  two  Evangelists 
show  plainly  that  Heaven  does  not  lay  stress  upon 
the  ipsissima  verba.  We  must  take  it  rather  as  a 
Divine  model,  laying  down  the  lines  on  which  our 
prayers  should  move.     It  is,  in  fact,  a  sort  of  prayen- 


CONCERNING  PRAYER,  183 

microcosm,  giving  a  miniature  reflection  of  the  whole 
world  of  prayer,  as  a  drop  of  dew  will  give  a  reflection 
of  the  encircling  sky.  It  gives  us  what  we  may  call 
the  species  of  prayer,  whose  genera  branch  off  into 
infinite  varieties ;  nor  can  we  readily  conceive  of  any 
petition,  however  particular  or  private,  whose  root-stem 
is  not  found  in  the  few  but  comprehensive  words  of 
the  Lord's  Prayer.  It  covers  every  want  of  man,  just 
as  it  befits  every  place  and  time. 

Running  through  the  prayer  are  two  marked  divi- 
sions, the  one  general,  the  other  particular  and 
personal ;  and  in  the  Divine  order,  contrary  to  our 
human  wont,  the  general  stands  first,  and  the  personal 
second.  Our  prayers  often  move  in  narrow  circles, 
like  the  homing  birds  coming  back  to  this  "  centred 
self"  of  ours,  and  sometimes  we  forget  to  give  them 
the  wider  sweeps  over  a  redeemed  humanity.  But 
Jesus  says,  "When  ye  pray,  say.  Father,  hallowed  be 
Thy  name.  Thy  kingdom  come."  It  is  a  temporary 
erasure  of  self,  as  the  soul  of  the  worshipper  is  absorbed 
in  God.  In  its  nearness  to  the  throne  it  forgets  for 
awhile  its  own  Httle  needs;  its  low-flying  thoughts 
are  caught  up  into  the  higher  currents  of  the  Divine 
thought  and  purpose,  moving  outwards  with  them. 
And  this  is  the  first  petition,  that  the  name  of  God 
may  be  hallowed  throughout  the  world;  that  is,  that 
men's  conceptions  of  the  Deity  may  become  just  and 
holy,  until  earth  gives  back  in  echo  the  Trisagion  of  the 
seraphim.  The  second  petition  is  a  continuation  of 
the  first ;  for  just  in  proportion  as  men's  conceptions 
of  God  are  corrected  and  hallowed  will  the  kingdom 
of  God  be  set  up  on  earth.  The  first  petition,  like  th&t 
of  the  Psalmist,  is  for  the  sending  out  of  "  Thy  light 
and  Thy  truth  : "  the  second  is  that  humanity  may 


i84  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

be  led  to  the  "  holy  hill,"  praising  God  upon  the  harp, 
and  finding  in  God  their  "  exceeding  joy."  To  find 
God  as  the  Father-King  is  to  step  up  within  the 
kingdom. 

The  prayer  now  descends  into  the  lower  plane  of 
personal  wants,  covering  (i)  our  physical,  and  (2)  our 
spiritual  needs.  The  former  are  met  with  one  petition, 
"  Give  us  day  by  day  our  daily  bread,"  a  sentence 
confessedly  obscure,  and  which  has  given  rise  to  much 
dispute.  Some  interpret  it  in  a  spiritual  sense  alone, 
since,  as  they  say,  any  other  interpretation  would 
break  in  upon  the  uniformity  of  the  prayer,  whose 
other  terms  are  all  spiritual.  But  if,  as  we  have  sug- 
gested, the  whole  prayer  must  be  regarded  as  an 
epitome  of  prayer  in  general,  then  it  must  include  some- 
where our  physical  needs,  or  a  large  and  important 
domain  of  our  life  is  left  uncovered.  As  to  the  meaning 
of  the  singular  adjective  einovaLov  we  need  not  say 
much.  That  it  can  scarcely  mean  "to-morrow's" 
bread  is  evident  from  the  warning  Jesus  gives  against 
"taking  thought"  for  the  morrow,  and  we  must  not 
allow  the  prayer  to  traverse  the  command.  The  most 
natural  and  likely  interpretation  is  that  which  the  heart 
of  mankind  has  always  given  it,  as  our  "  daily  "  bread, 
or  bread  sufficient  for  the  day.  Jesus  thus  selects 
what  is  the  most  common  of  our  physical  wants,  the 
bread  which  comes  to  us  in  such  purely  natural, 
matter-of-course  ways,  as  the  specimen  need  of  our 
physical  life.  But  when  He  thus  lifts  up  this  common, 
ever-recurring  mercy  into  the  region  of  prayer  He  puts 
a  halo  of  Divineness  about  it,  and  by  including  this 
He  teaches  us  that  there  is  no  want  of  even  our 
physical  Ufe  which  is  excluded  from  the  realm  of  prayer. 
If  we  are  invited  to  speak  with  God  concerning  our 


CONCERNING  PRAYER.  185 

daily  bread,  then  certainly  we  need  not  be  silent  as  to 
aught  else. 

Our  spiritual  needs  are  included  in  the  two  petitions, 
**  And  forgive  us  our  sins  ;  for  we  ourselves  also  forgive 
every  one  that  is  indebted  to  us.  And  bring  us  not  into 
temptation."  The  parenthesis  does  not  imply  that  all 
debts  should  be  remitted,  for  payment  of  these  is  en- 
joined as  one  of  the  duties  of  life.  The  indebtedness 
spoken  of  is  rather  the  New  Testament  indebtedness, 
the  failure  of  duty  or  courtesy,  the  omission  of  some 
"  ought "  of  life  or  some  injury  or  offence.  It  is  that 
human  forgiveness,  the  opposite  of  resentment,  which 
grows  up  under  the  shadow  of  the  Divine  forgiveness. 
The  former  of  these  petitions,  then,  is  for  the  forgive- 
ness of  all  past  sin,  while  the  latter  is  for  deliverance 
from  present  sinning ;  for  when  we  pray,  **  Bring  us 
not  into  temptation,"  it  is  a  prayer  that  we  may  not 
be  tempted  "  above  that  we  are  able,"  which,  amplified, 
means  that  in  all  our  temptations  we  may  be  victorious, 
**  kept  by  the  power  of  God." 

Such,  then,  is  the  wide  realm  of  prayer,  as  indicated 
by  Jesus.  He  assures  us  that  there  is  no  department 
of  our  being,  no  circumstance  of  our  life,  which  does 
not  lie  within  its  range ;  that 

**  The  whole  round  world  is  every  way 
Bound  with  gold  chains  about  the  feet  of  God,* 

and  that  on  these  golden  chains,  as  on  a  harp,  the 
touch  of  prayer  may  wake  sweet  music,  far-ofif  or  near 
alike.  And  how  much  we  miss  through  restraining 
prayer,  reserving  it  for  special  occasions,  or  for  the 
greater  crises  of  life  1  But  if  we  would  only  loop  up 
with  heaven  each  successive  hour,  if  we  would  only 
run  the  thread  of  prayer  through  the  common  events 


i86  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

and  the  common  tasks,  we  should  find  the  whole  day 
and  the  whole  life  swinging  on  a  higher,  calmer  level. 
The  common  task  would  cease  to  be  common,  and  the 
earthly  would  be  less  earthly,  if  we  only  threw  a  bit 
of  heaven  upon  it,  or  we  opened  it  out  to  heafven.  If 
in  everything  we  could  but  make  our  requests  known 
unto  God — that  is,  if  prayer  became  the  habitual  act 
of  life — we  should  find  that  heaven  was  no  longer  the 
land  "  afar  off"/'  but  that  it  was  close  upon  us,  with  all 
its  proffered  ministries. 

Again,  Jesus  teaches  the  importance  of  earnestness 
and  importunity  in  prayer.  He  sketches  the  picture — 
for  it  is  scarcely  a  parable — of  the  man  whose  hospitality 
is  claimed,  late  at  night,  by  a  passing  friend,  but  who 
has  no  provision  made  for  the  emergency.  He  goes 
over  to  another  friend,  and  rousing  him  up  at  midnight, 
he  asks  for  the  loan  of  three  loaves.  And  with  what 
result  ?  Does  the  man  answer  from  within,  "  Trouble 
me  not :  the  door  is  now  shut,  and  my  children  are 
with  me  in  bed ;  I  cannot  rise  and  give  thee  "  ?  No, 
that  would  be  an  impossible  answer ;  for  "  though  he 
will  not  rise  and  give  him  because  he  is  his  friend, 
yet  because  of  his  importunity  he  will  rise  and  give 
him  as  many  as  he  needeth  "  (xi.  8).  It  is  the  un- 
reasonableness, or  at  any  rate  the  untimeliness  of  the 
request  Jesus  seems  to  emphasize.  The  man  himself 
is  thoughtless,  improvident  in  his  household  manage- 
ment He  disturbs  his  neighbour,  waking  up  his 
whole  family  at  midnight  for  such  a  trivial  matter 
as  the  loan  of  three  loaves.  But  he  gains  his  request, 
not,  either,  on  the  ground  of  friendship,  but  through 
sheer  audacity,  impudence ;  for  such  is  the  meaning 
of  the  word,  rather  than  importunity.  The  lesson  is 
easily  learned,  for  the  suppressed   comparison  would 


CONCERNING  PRAYER.  187 

be,  "  If  man,  being  evil,  will  put  himself  out  of  the 
way  to  serve  a  friend,  even  at  this  untimely  hour, 
filling  up  by  his  thoughtfulness  his  friend's  lack  of 
thought,  how  much  more  will  the  heavenly  Father  give 
to  His  child  such  things  as  are  needful  ?  " 

We  have  the  same  lesson  taught  in  the  parable  of 
the  Unjust  Judge  (xviii.  i),  that  '^  men  ought  always 
to  pray,  and  not  to  faint."  Here,  however,  the  charac- 
wers  are  reversed.  The  suppliant  is  a  poor  and  a 
wronged  widow,  while  the  person  addressed  is  a  hard, 
selfish,  godless  man,  who  boasts  of  his  atheism.  She 
asks,  not  for  a  favour,  but  for  her  rights — that  she  may 
have  due  protection  from  some  extortionate  adversary, 
who  somehow  has  got  her  in  his  power ;  for  justice 
rather  than  vengeance  is  her  demand.  But  "  he  would 
not  for  awhile,"  and  all  her  cries  for  pity  and  for  help 
beat  upon  that  callous  heart  only  as  the  surf  upon  a 
rocky  shore,  to  be  thrown  back  upon  itself  But  after- 
wards he  said  within  himself,  *'  Though  I  fear  not  God, 
nor  regard  man,  yet  because  this  widow  troubleth  me, 
I  will  avenge  her,  lest  she  wear  me  out  by  her  continual 
coming."  And  so  he  is  moved  to  take  her  part  against 
her  adversary,  not  for  any  motive  of  compassion  or 
sense  of  justice,  but  through  mere  selfishness,  that  he 
may  escape  the  annoyance  of  her  frequent  visits — lest 
her  continual  coming  "  worry "  me,  as  the  colloquial 
expression  might  be  rendered.  Here  the  comparison,  or 
contrast  rather,  is  expressed,  at  any  rate  in  part.  It  is, 
"  If  an  unjust  and  abandoned  judge  grants  a  just  peti- 
tion at  last,  out  of  base  motives,  when  it  is  often  urged, 
to  a  defenceless  person  for  whom  he  cares  nothing,  how 
much  more  shall  a  just  and  merciful  God  hear  the  cry 
and  avenge  the  cause  of  those  whom  He  loves  ?  "  * 

•  Farrar. 


i88  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

It  is  a  resolute  persistence  in  prayer  the  parable 
urges,  the  continued  asking,  and  seeking,  and  knocking 
that  Jesus  both  commended  and  commanded  (xi.  9), 
and  which  has  the  promise  of  such  certain  answers, 
and  not  the  tantalizing  mockeries  of  stones  for  bread, 
or  scorpions  for  fish.  Some  blessings  lie  near  at  hand ; 
we  have  only  to  ask,  and  we  receive — receive  even  while 
we  ask.  But  other  blessings  lie  farther  off,  and  they 
can  only  be  ours  by  a  continuance  in  prayer,  by  a 
persistent  importunity.  Not  that  our  heavenly  Father 
needs  any  wearying  into  mercy ;  but  the  blessing  may 
not  be  ripe,  or  we  ourselves  may  not  be  fully  prepared 
to  receive  it.  A  blessing  for  which  we  are  unprepared 
would  only  be  an  untimely  blessing,  and  like  a  December 
swallow,  it  would  soon  die,  without  nest  or  brood.  And 
sometimes  the  long  delay  is  but  a  test  of  faith,  whetting 
and  sharpening  the  desire,  until  our  very  life  seems  to 
depend  upon  the  granting  of  our  prayer.  So  long  as 
our  prayers  are  among  the  "  may-be's  "  and  *'  mights  " 
there  are  fears  and  doubts  alternating  with  our  hope 
and  faith.  But  when  the  desires  are  intensified,  and 
our  prayers  rise  into  the  ''  must-be's,"  then  the  answers 
are  near  at  hand ;  for  that  "  must  be "  is  the  souFs 
Mahanaim,  where  the  angels  meet  us,  and  God  Himself 
says  "  I  will."  Delays  in  our  prayers  are  by  no  means 
denials ;  they  are  often  but  the  lengthened  summer 
for  the  ripening  of  our  blessings,  making  them  larger 
and  more  sweet. 

And  now  we  have  only  to  consider,  which  we  must 
do  briefly,  the  practice  of  Jesus,  the  place  of  prayer  in 
His  own  Ufe ;  and  we  shall  find  that  in  every  point  it 
coincides  exactly  with  His  teaching.  To  us  of  the 
clouded  vision  heaven  is  sometimes  a  hope  more  than 
a  reality.     It  is  an  unseen  goal,  luring  us  across  the 


CONCERNING  PRAYER.  iH9 

wilderness,  and  which  one  of  these  days  we  may  pos- 
sess ;  but  it  is  not  to  us  as  the  wide-reaching,  encircHng 
sky,  throwing  its  sunshine  into  each  day,  and  Hghting 
up  our  nights  with  its  thousand  lamps.  To  Jesus, 
heaven  was  more  and  nearer  than  it  is  to  us.  He  had 
left  it  behind  ;  and  yet  He  had  not  left  it,  for  He  speaks 
of  Himself,  the  Son  of  man,  as  being  now  in  heaven. 
And  so  He  was.  His  feet  were  upon  earth,  at  home 
amid  its  dust ;  but  His  heart.  His  truer  life,  were  all 
above.  And  how  constant  His  correspondence,  or 
rather  communion,  with  heaven  I  At  first  sight  it 
appears  strange  to  us  that  Jesus  should  need  the 
sustenance  of  prayer,  or  that  He  could  even  adopt 
its  language.  But  when  He  became  the  Son  of  man 
He  voluntarily  assumed  the  needs  of  humanity ;  He 
"  emptied  Himself,"  as  the  Apostle  expresses  a  great 
mystery,  as  if  for  the  time  divesting  Himself  of  all 
Divine  prerogatives,  choosing  to  live  as  man  amongst 
men.  And  so  Jesus  prayed.  He  was  wont,  even  as 
we  are,  to  refresh  a  wasted  strength  by  draughts  from 
the  celestial  springs  ;  and  as  Antaeus,  in  his  wrestling, 
recovered  himself  as  he  touched  the  ground,  so  we  find 
Jesus,  in  the  great  crises  of  His  Hfe,  falling  back  upon 
Heaven. 

St.  Luke,  in  his  narrative  of  the  Baptism,  inserts  one 
fact  the  other  Synoptists  omit — that  Jesus  was  in  the  act 
of  prayer  when  the  heavens  were  opened,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost  descended,  in  the  semblance  of  a  dove,  upon  Him. 
It  is  as  if  the  opened  heavens,  the  descending  dove,  and 
the  audible  voice  were  but  the  answer  to  His  prayer. 
And  why  not?  Standing  on  the  threshold  of  His 
mission,  would  He  not  naturally  ask  that  a  double 
portion  of  the  Spirit  might  be  His — that  Heaven  might 
put  its  manifest  seal  upon  that  mission,  if  not  for  the 


190  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

confirmation  of  His  own  faith,  yet  for  that  of  His  fore- 
runner ?  At  any  rate,  the  fact  is  plain  that  it  was  while 
He  was  in  the  act  of  prayer  that  He  received  that 
second  and  higher  baptism,  even  the  baptism  of  the 
Spirit. 

A  second  epoch  in  that  Divine  life  was  when  Jesus 
formally  instituted  the  Apostleship,  calling  and  initiat- 
ing the  Twelve  into  the  closer  brotherhood.  It  was,  so 
to  speak,  the  appointment  of  a  regency,  who  should 
exercise  authority  and  rule  in  the  new  kingdom, 
sitting,as  Jesus  figuratively  expresses  it  (xxii.  30),  *'on 
thrones,  judging  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel."  It  is  easy 
to  see  what  tremendous  issues  were  involved  in  this 
appointment ;  for  were  these  foundation-stones  untrue, 
warped  by  jealousies  and  vain  ambitions,  the  whole 
superstructure  would  have  been  weakened,  thrown  out 
of  the  square.  And  so  before  the  selection  is  made,  a 
selection  demanding  such  insight  and  foresight,  such 
a  balancing  of  complementary  gifts,  Jesus  devotes  the 
whole  night  to  prayer,  seeking  the  soHtude  of  the 
mountain-height,  and  in  the  early  dawn  coming  down, 
with  the  dews  of  night  upon  His  garment  and  with  the 
dews  of  heaven  upon  His  soul,  which,  Uke  crystals  or 
lenses  of  light,  made  the  invisible  visible  and  the  distant 
near. 

A  third  crisis  in  that  Divine  life  was  at  the  Trans- 
figuration, when  the  summit  was  reached,  the  border- 
line between  earth  and  heaven,  where,  amid  celestial 
greetings  and  overshadowing  clouds  of  glory,  that 
sinless  life  would  have  had  its  natural  transition  into 
heaven.  And  here  again  we  find  the  same  coincidence 
of  prayer.  Both  St  Mark  and  St.  Luke  state  that  the 
**  high  mountain  "  was  climbed  for  the  express  purpose 
of  communion  with  Heaven ;  they  "  went  up  into  the 


CONC£R.\iJ)/G  PRAYER.  191 

mountain  to  pray."  It  is  only  St.  Luke,  however,  who 
states  that  it  was  "  as  He  was  praying  "  the  fashion  of 
His  countenance  was  altered,  thus  making  the  vision 
an  answer,  or  at  least  a  corollary,  to  the  prayer.  He  is 
at  a  point  where  two  ways  meet :  the  one  passes  into 
heaven  at  once,  from  that  high  level  to  which  by  a 
sinless  Hfe  He  has  attained ;  the  other  path  sweeps 
suddenly  downward  to  a  valley  of  agony,  a  cross  of 
shame,  a  tomb  of  death ;  and  after  this  wide  detour  the 
heavenly  heights  are  reached  again.  Which  path  will 
He  choose  ?  If  He  takes  the  one  He  passes  solitary 
into  heaven  ;  if  He  takes  the  other  He  brings  with  Him 
a  redeemed  humanity.  And  does  not  this  give  us,  in  a 
sort  of  echo,  the  burden  of  His  prayer  ?  He  finds  the 
shadow  of  the  cross  thrown  over  this  heaven-lighted 
summit— for  when  Moses  and  Elias  appear  they  would 
not  introduce  a  subject  altogether  new ;  they  would  in 
their  conversation  strike  in  with  the  theme  with  which 
His  mind  is  already  preoccupied,  that  is  the  decease  He 
should  accomplish  at  Jerusalem — and  as  the  chill  of  that 
shadow  settles  upon  Him,  causing  the  flesh  to  shrink 
and  quiver  for  a  while,  would  He  not  seek  for  the 
strength  He  needs?  Would  He  not  ask,  as  later,  in 
the  garden,  that  the  cup  might  pass  from  Him ;  or  if 
that  should  not  be  possible,  that  His  will  might  not 
conflict  with  the  Father's  will,  even  for  a  passing 
moment  ?  At  any  rate  we  may  suppose  that  the  vision 
was,  in  some  way.  Heaven's  answer  to  His  prayer, 
giving  Him  the  solace  and  strengthening  that  He 
sought,  as  the  Father's  voice  attested  His  Sonship,  and 
celestials  came  forth  to  salute  the  Well-beloved,  and  to 
hearten  Him  on  towards  His  dark  goal. 

Just   so  was  it  when  Jesus  kept  His  fourth  watch 
in   Gethsemane.     What  Gethsemane  was,   and   what 


193  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

its  fearful  agony  meant,  we  shall  consider  in  a  later 
chapter.  It  is  enough  for  our  present  purpose  to  see 
how  Jesus  consecrated  that  deep  valley,  as  before  He 
had  consecrated  the  Transfiguration  height,  to  prayer. 
Leaving  the  three  outside  the  veil  of  the  darkness,  He 
passes  into  Gethsemane,  as  into  another  Holy  of  holies, 
there  to  offer  up  for  His  own  and  for  Himself  the 
sacrifice  of  prayer;  while  as  our  High  Priest  He 
sprinkles  with  His  own  blood,  that  blood  of  the  ever- 
lasting covenant,  the  sacred  ground.  And  what  prayer 
was  that  I  how  intensely  fervent  I  That  if  it  were 
possible  the  dread  cup  might  pass  from  Him,  but  that 
either  way  the  Father's  will  might  be  done  I  And  that 
prayer  was  the  prelude  to  victory;  for  as  the  first 
Adam  fell  by  the  assertion  of  self,  the  clashing  of  his 
will  with  God's,  the  second  Adam  conquers  by  the  total 
surrender  of  His  will  to  the  will  of  the  Father.  The 
agony  was  lost  in  the  acquiescence. 

But  it  was  not  alone  in  the  great  crises  of  His  life 
that  Jesus  fell  back  upon  Heaven.  Prayer  with  Him 
was  habitual,  the  fragrant  atmosphere  in  which  He 
lived,  and  moved,  and  spoke.  His  words  glide  as  by 
a  natural  transition  into  its  language,  as  a  bird  whose 
feet  have  lightly  touched  the  ground  suddenly  takes  to 
its  wings ;  and  again  and  again  we  find  Him  pausing 
in  the  weaving  of  His  speech,  to  throw  across  the 
earthward  warp  the  heavenward  woof  of  prayer.  It 
was  a  necessity  of  His  life  ;  and  if  the  intrusive  crowds 
allowed  Him  no  time  for  its  exercise.  He  was  wont  to 
elude  them,  to  find  upon  the  mountain  or  in  the  desert 
His  prayer-chamber  beneath  the  stars.  And  how 
frequently  we  read  of  His  "  looking  up  to  heaven " 
amid  the  pauses  of  His  daily  task  1  stopping  before  He 
breaks  the  bread,  and  on  the  mirror  of  His  upturned 


CONCERNING  PRAYER.  193 

glance  leading  the  thoughts  and  thanks  of  the  multi- 
tude to  the  All-Father,  who  giveth  to  all  His  creatures 
their  meat  in  due  season;  or  pausing  as  He  works 
some  impromptu  miracle,  before  speaking  the  omnipo- 
tent "  Ephphatha,"  that  on  His  upward  look  He  may 
signal  to  the  skies  1  And  what  a  light  is  turned  upon 
His  life  and  His  relation  to  His  disciples  by  a  simple 
incident  that  occurs  on  the  night  of  the  betrayal ! 
Reading  the  sign  of  the  times,  in  His  forecast  of  the 
dark  to-morrow,  He  sees  the  terrible  strain  that  will 
be  put  upon  Peter's  faith,  and  which  He  likens  to  a 
Satanic  sifting.  With  prescient  eye  He  sees  the 
temporary  collapse ;  how,  in  the  fierce  heat  of  the 
trial,  the  "  rock  "  will  be  thrown  into  a  state  of  flux ;  so 
weak  and  pliant,  it  will  be  all  rippled  by  agitation  and 
unrest,  or  driven  back  at  the  mere  breath  of  a  servant- 
girl.  He  says  mournfully,  ''  Simon,  Simon,  behold, 
Satan  asked  to  have  you,  that  he  might  sift  you  as 
wheat :  but  I  made  supplication  for  thee,  that  thy  faith 
fail  not"  (xxii.  31).  So  completely  does  Jesus  identify 
Himself  with  His  own,  making  their  separate  needs 
His  care  (for  this  doubtless  was  no  solitary  case) ;  but 
iust  as  the  High  Priest  carried  on  his  breastplate  the 
twelve  tribal  names,  thus  bringing  all  Israel  within  the 
light  of  Urim  and  Thummim,  so  Jesus  carries  within 
His  heart  both  the  name  and  the  need  of  each  separate 
disciple,  asking  for  them  in  prayer  what,  perhaps,  they 
have  failed  to  ask  for  themselves.  Nor  are  the  prayers 
of  Jesus  limited  by  any  such  narrow  circle ;  they  com- 
passed the  world,  lighting  up  all  horizons;  and  even 
upon  the  cross,  amid  the  jeers  and  laughter  of  the 
crowd.  He  forgets  His  own  agonies,  as  with  parched 
lips  He  prays  for  His  murderers,  "  Father,  forgive 
them ;  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

13 


194  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

Thus,  more  than  any  son  of  man,  did  Jesus  "  pray 
without  ceasing,"  "in  everything  by  prayer  and  sup- 
plication with  thanksgiving"  making  request  unto  God. 
Shall  we  not  copy  His  bright  example  ?  shall  we  not, 
too,  live,  labour,  and  endure,  as  "  seeing  Him  who  is 
invisible "  ?  He  who  lives  a  life  of  prayer  will  never 
question  its  reality.  He  who  sees  God  in  everything, 
and  everything  in  God,  will  turn  his  life  into  a  south 
land,  with  upper  and  nether  springs  of  blessing  in 
ceaseless  flow;  for  the  life  that  lies  full  heavenward 
in  perpetual  summer,  in  the  eternal  noon. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  FAITH  OF  THE  CENTURION, 
LuKK  viu   I-IO. 

OUR  Evangelist  prefaces  the  narrative  of  the  heal- 
ing of  the  centurion's  servant  with  one  of  his 
characteristic  time-marks,  the  shadow  upon  his  dial- 
plate  being  the  shadow  of  the  new  mount  of  God : 
"After  He  had  ended  all  His  sayings  in  the  ears  of 
the  people,  He  entered  into  Capernaum."  The  language 
is  unusually  weighty,  almost  solemn,  as  if  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount  were  not  so  much  a  sermon  as  a  mani- 
festo, the  formal  proclamation  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
Our  word  "ended,"  too,  is  scarcely  an  equivalent  of 
the  original  word,  whose  underlying  idea  is  that  of 
fulness,  completion.  It  is  more  than  a  full-stop  to 
point  a  sentence;  it  is  a  word  that  characterizes  the 
sentence  itself,  suggesting,  if  not  implying,  that  these 
"sayings"  of  His  formed  a  complete  and  rounded 
whole,  a  body  of  moral  and  ethical  truth  which  was 
perfect  in  itself.  The  Mount  of  Beatitudes  thus  stands 
before  us  as  the  Sinai  of  the  New  Testament,  giving 
its  laws  to  all  peoples  and  to  all  times.  But  how 
different  the  aspect  of  the  two  mounts  1  Then  the 
people  dare  not  touch  the  mountain ;  now  they  press 
close  up  to  the  "  Prophet  like  unto  Moses  "  to  hear  the 
word  of  God.  Then  the  Law  came  in  a  cluster  of 
restrictions  and  negations ;  it  now  speaks  in  commands 


196  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE. 

most  positive,  in  principles  permanent  as  time  itself; 
while  from  this  new  Sinai  the  clouds  have  disappeared, 
the  thunders  ceased,  leaving  a  sky  serene  and  bright, 
and  a  heaven  which  is  strangely  near. 

Returning  to  Capernaum — which  city,  after  the  ejec- 
tion from  Nazareth,  became  the  home  of  Jesus,  and 
the  centre  of  His  Galilean  ministry — He  was  met  by 
a  deputation  of  Jewish  elders,  who  came  to  intercede 
with  Him  on  behalf  of  a  centurion  whose  servant  was 
lying  dangerously  ill  and  apparently  at  the  point  of 
death.  The  narrative  thus  gives  us,  as  its  dramatis 
personce,  the  Sufferer,  the  Intercessor,  and  the  Healer. 

As  we  read  the  story  our  thought  is  arrested,  and 
naturally  so,  by  the  central  figure.  The  imposing 
shadow  of  the  centurion  so  completely  fills  our  range 
of  vision  that  it  throws  into  the  background  the  name- 
less one  who  in  his  secret  chamber  is  struggling  vainly 
in  the  tightening  grip  of  death.  But  who  is  he  who 
can  command  such  a  service  ?  around  whose  couch  is 
such  a  multitude  of  ministering  feet  ?  who  is  he 
whose  panting  breath  can  throw  over  the  heart  of  his 
master,  and  over  his  face,  the  ripple-marks  of  a  great 
sorrow,  which  sends  hither  and  thither,  as  the  wind 
tosses  the  dry  leaves,  soldiers  of  the  army,  elders  of 
the  Jews,  friends  of  the  master,  and  which  makes 
even  the  feet  of  the  Lord  hasten  with  His  succour  ? 

*'And  a  certain  centurion's  servant,  who  was  dear 
unto  him,  was  sick  and  at  the  point  of  death."  Such 
is  the  brief  sentence  which  describes  a  character,  and 
sums  up  the  whole  of  an  obscure  life.  We  are  not 
able  to  define  precisely  his  position,  for  the  word  leaves 
us  in  doubt  whether  he  were  a  slave  or  a  servant  of  the 
centurion.  Probably — if  we  may  throw  the  light  of 
the  whole  narrative  upon  the  word — he  was  a  confiden- 


vii,  i-io]        THE  FAITH  OF  THE  CENTURION  197 

tial  servant,  living  in  the  house  of  his  master,  on  terms 
of  more  than  usual  intimacy.  What  those  terms  were 
we  may  easily  discover  by  opening  out  the  word  "  dear," 
reading  its  depths  as  well  as  its  surface-meaning.  In 
its  lower  sense  it  means  "  valuable,"  **  worth-y  "  (putting 
its  ancient  accent  upon  the  modern  word).  It  sets  the 
man,  not  over  against  the  tables  of  the  Law,  but  against 
the  law  of  the  tables,  weighing  him  in  the  balances  of 
trade,  and  estimating  him  by  the  scale  of  commercial 
values.  But  in  this  meaner,  worldly  mode  of  reckoning 
he  is  not  found  wanting.  He  is  a  servant  proved  and 
approved.  Like  Eliezer  of  old,  he  has  identified  himself 
with  his  master's  interests,  listening  for  his  voice,  and 
learning  to  read  even  the  wishes  which  were  unexpressed 
in  words.  Adjusting  his  will  to  the  higher  will,  like 
a  vane  answering  the  currents  of  the  wind,  his  hands, 
his  feet,  and  his  whole  self  have  swung  round  to  fall 
into  the  drift  of  his  master's  purpose.  Faithful  in  his 
service,  whether  that  service  were  under  the  master's 
eye  or  not,  and  faithful  alike  in  the  great  and  the  little 
things,  he  has  entered  into  his  master's  confidence,  and 
so  into  his  joy.  Losing  his  own  personality,  he  is  con- 
tent to  be  something  between  a  cipher  and  a  unit,  only 
a  "hand."  But  he  is  the  master's  right  hand,  strong 
and  ever  ready,  so  useful  as  to  be  almost  an  integral 
part  of  the  master's  self,  without  which  the  master's  life 
would  be  incomplete  and  strangely  bereaved.  All  this 
we  may  learn  from  the  lower  meaning  of  the  phrase 
"  was  dear  unto  him." 

But  the  word  has  a  higher  meaning,  one  that  is 
properly  rendered  by  our  "dear."  It  implies  esteem, 
affection,  transferring  our  thought  from  the  subject  to 
the  object,  from  the  character  of  the  servant  to  the 
influence  it  has  exerted  upon  the  master.     The  word  is 


198  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

thus  an  index,  a  barometrical  reading,  measuring  for  us 
the  pressure  of  that  influence,  and  recording  for  us  the 
high  sentiments  of  regard  and  affection  it  has  evoked. 
As  the  trees  around  the  pond  lean  towards  the  water 
which  laves  their  roots,  so  the  strong  soul  of  the  cen- 
turion, drawn  by  the  attractions  of  a  lowly  but  a  noble 
life,  leans  toward,  until  it  leans  upon,  his  servant,  giving 
him  its  confidence,  its  esteem  and  love,  that  golden 
fruitage  of  the  heart.  That  such  was  the  mutual 
relation  of  the  master  and  the  servant  is  evident,  for 
Jesus,  who  read  motives  and  heard  thoughts,  would  not 
so  freely  and  promptly  have  placed  His  miraculous 
power  at  the  disposal  of  the  centurion  had  his  sorrow 
been  only  the  selfish  sorrow  of  losing  what  was  com- 
mercially valuable.  To  an  appeal  of  selfishness,  though 
thrown  forward  and  magnified  by  the  sounding-boards 
of  all  the  synagogues,  the  ears  of  Jesus  would  have 
been  perfectly  deaf;  but  when  it  was  the  cry  of  a 
genuine  sorrow,  the  moan  of  a  vicarious  pain,  an 
unselfish,  disinterested  grief,  then  the  ears  of  Jesus 
were  quick  to  hear,  and  His  feet  swift  to  respond. 

It  is  impossible  for  us  to  define  exactly  what  the 
sickness  was,  though  the  statement  of  St.  Matthew 
that  it  was  "  palsy,"  and  that  he  was  **  grievously  tor- 
mented," would  suggest  that  it  might  be  an  acute  case 
of  inflammatory  rheumatism.  But  whatever  it  might 
be,  it  was  a  most  painful,  and  as  every  one  thought  a 
mortal  sickness,  one  that  left  no  room  for  hope,  save 
this  last  hope  in  the  Divine  mercy.  But  what  a  lesson 
is  here  for  our  times,  as  indeed  for  all  times,  the  lesson 
of  humanity  I  How  little  does  Heaven  make  of  rank 
and  station !  Jesus  does  not  even  see  them ;  He 
ignores  them  utterly.  To  His  mind  Humanity  is  one, 
and    the   broad   lines  of  distinction,   the   impassable 


tU.i-io.J       the  faith  of  THE  CENTURION.  199 

barriers  Society  is  fond  of  drawing  or  setting  up,  to 
Him  are  but  imaginary  meridians  of  the  sea,  a  name, 
but  nothing  more.  It  is  but  a  nameless  servant  of  a 
nameless  master,  one,  too,  of  many,  for  a  hundred 
others  are  ready,  with  military  precision,  to  do  that 
same  master's  will ;  but  Jesus  does  not  hesitate.  He 
who  voluntarily  took  upon  Himself  the  form  of  a  ser- 
vant, as  He  came  into  the  world  "  not  to  be  ministered 
unto,  but  to  minister,"  now  becomes  the  Servant  of  a 
servant,  saying  to  him  who  knew  only  how  to  obey, 
how  to  serve,  **  Here  am  I ;  command  Me ;  use  Me 
as  thou  wilt.'*  All  service  is  honourable,  if  we  serve 
not  ourselves,  but  our  fellows,  and  it  is  doubly  so  if, 
serving  man,  we  serve  God  too.  As  the  sunshine  looks 
down  into,  and  strews  with  flowers,  the  lowest  vales, 
so  the  Divine  compassion  falls  on  the.  lowliest  lives,  and 
the  Divine  grace  makes  them  sweet  and  beautiful 
Christianity  is  the  great  leveller,  but  it  levels  upwards, 
and  if  we  possess  the  mind  of  Christ,  His  Spirit  dwell- 
ing and  ruling  within,  we  too,  like  the  great  Apostle, 
shall  know  no  man  after  the  flesh ;  the  accidents  of 
birth,  and  rank,  and  fortune  will  sink  back  into  the 
trifles  that  they  are ;  for  however  these  may  vary,  it  is 
an  eternal  truth,  though  spoken  by  a  son  of  the  soil 
and  the  heather — 

"  A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that" 

It  is  not  easy  to  tell  how  the  seed-thought  is  borne 
into  a  heart,  there  to  germinate  and  ripen  ;  for  influences 
are  subtle,  invisible  things.  Like  the  pollen  of  a 
flower,  which  may  be  carried  on  the  antennae  of  some 
unconscious  insect,  or  borne  into  the  future  by  the 
passing  breeze,  so  influences  which  will  yet  ripen  into 
character  and  make  destinies  are  thrown  off"  uncon- 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE. 


sciously  from  our  common  deeds,  or  they  are  borne  on 
the  wings  of  the  chance,  casual  word.  The  case  of 
the  centurion  is  no  exception.  By  what  steps  he  has 
been  brought  into  the  clearer  light  we  cannot  tell,  but 
evidently  this  Pagan  officer  is  now  a  proselyte  to  the 
Hebrew  faith  and  worship,  the  window  of  his  soul 
open  towards  Jerusalem,  while  his  professional  life 
still  looks  towards  Rome,  as  he  renders  to  Caesar  the 
allegiance  and  service  which  are  Caesar's  due.  And 
what  a  testimony  it  is  to  the  vitality  and  reproductive 
power  of  the  Hebrew  faith,  that  it  should  boast  of  at 
least  three  centurions,  in  the  imperial  ranks,  of  whom 
Scripture  makes  honourable  mention — one  at  Caper- 
naum ;  another,  CorneHus,  at  Caesarea,  whose  prayers 
and  alms  were  had  in  remembrance  of  Heaven  ;  and  the 
third  in  Jerusalem,  witnessing  a  good  confession  upon 
Calvary,  and  proclaiming  within  the  shadow  of  the 
cross  the  Divinity  of  the  Crucified.  It  shows  how  the 
Paganism  of  Rome  failed  to  satisfy  the  aspirations  of 
the  soul,  and  how  Mars,  red  and  lurid  through  the 
night,  paled  and  disappeared  at  the  rising  of  the  Sun. 

Although  identifying  himself  with  the  religious  hfe 
of  the  city,  the  centurion  had  not  yet  had  any  personal 
interview  with  Jesus.  Possibly  his  military  duties 
prevented  his  attendance  at  the  synagogue,  so  that  he 
had  not  seen  the  cures  Jesus  there  wrought  upon  the 
demoniac  and  the  man  with  the  withered  hand.  The 
report  of  them,  however,  must  soon  have  reached  him, 
intimate  as  he  was  with  the  officials  of  the  synagogue ; 
while  the  nobleman,  the  cure  of  whose  sick  son  is 
narrated  by  St.  John  (iv.  46),  would  probably  be 
amongst  his  personal  friends,  an  acquaintance  at  any 
rate.  The  centurion  "  heard "  of  Jesus,  but  he  could 
not  have  heard  had  not  some  one  spoken  of  Him.     The 


vii,  i.ia]       THE  FAITH  OF  THE  CENTURION,  aoi 

Christ  was  borne  into  his  mind  and  heart  on  the  breath 
of  common  speech  ;  that  is,  the  little  human  word  grew 
into  the  Divine  Word.  It  was  the  verbal  testimony 
as  to  what  Jesus  had  done  that  now  led  to  the  still 
greater  things  He  was  prepared  to  do.  And  such  is 
the  place  and  power  of  testimony  to-day.  It  is  the 
most  persuasive,  the  most  effective  form  of  speech. 
Testimony  will  often  win  where  argument  has  failed, 
and  gold  itself  is  all-powerless  to  extend  the  frontiers 
of  the  heavenly  kingdom  until  it  is  melted  down  and 
exchanged  for  the  higher  currency  of  speech.  It  is 
first  the  human  voice  crying  in  the  wilderness,  and 
then  the  incarnate  Word,  whose  coming  makes  the 
wilderness  to  be  glad,  and  the  desert  places  of  life  to 
sing.  And  so,  while  a  sword  of  flame  guards  the 
Paradise  Lost,  it  is  a  '*  tongue  "  of  flame,  that  symbol 
of  a  perpetual  Pentecost,  which  calls  man  back,  re- 
deemed now,  to  the  Paradise  Restored.  If  Christians 
would  only  speak  more  for  Christ ;  if,  shaking  off  that 
foolish  reserve,  they  would  in  simple  language  testify 
to  what  they  themselves  have  seen,  and  known,  and 
experienced,  how  rapidly  would  the  kingdom  come, 
the  kingdom  for  which  we  pray,  indeed,  but  for  which, 
alas,  we  are  afraid  to  speak  1  Nations  then  would  be 
born  in  a  day,  and  the  millennium,  instead  of  being  the 
distant  or  the  forlorn  hope  it  is,  would  be  a  speedy 
realization.  We  should  be  in  the  fringe  of  it  directly. 
It  is  said  that  on  one  of  the  Alpine  glaciers  the  guides 
forbid  travellers  to  speak,  lest  the  mere  tremor  of  the 
human  voice  should  loosen  and  bring  down  the  deadly 
avalanche.  Whether  this  be  so  or  not,  it  was  some 
unnamed  voice  that  now  sent  the  centurion  to  Christ, 
and  brought  the  Christ  to  him. 

It  was  probably  a  sudden   relapse,    with   increased 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


paroxysms  of  pain,  on  the  part  of  the  sufferer,  which 
now  decided  the  centurion  to  make  his  appeal  to 
Jesus,  sending  a  deputation  of  Jewish  elders,  as  the 
day  was  on  the  wane,  to  the  house  to  which  Jesus  had 
now  returned.  They  make  their  request  that  "  He 
would  come  and  save  the  servant  of  the  centurion, 
who  was  now  lying  at  the  point  of  death."  True 
advocates,  and  skilful,  were  these  elders.  They  made 
the  centurion's  cause  their  own,  as  if  their  hearts  had 
caught  the  rhythmic  beat  of  his  great  sorrow,  and 
when  Jesus  held  back  a  little — as  He  often  did,  to  test 
the  intensity  of  the  desire  and  the  sincerity  of  the 
suppliant — "they  besought  Him  earnestly,"  or  "kept 
on  beseeching,"  as  the  tense  of  the  verb  would  imply, 
crowning  their  entreaty  with  the  plea,  "  He  is  worthy 
that  Thou  shouldest  do  this,  for  he  loveth  our  nation, 
and  himself  built  us  our  synagogue."  Possibly  they 
feared — putting  a  Hebrew  construction  upon  His  sym- 
pathies— that  Jesus  would  demur,  and  perhaps  refuse, 
because  their  client  was  a  foreigner.  They  did  not 
know,  what  we  know  so  well,  that  the  mercy  of  Jesus 
was  as  broad  as  it  was  deep,  knowing  no  bounds 
where  its  waves  of  blessing  are  stayed.  But  how 
forceful  and  prevalent  was  their  plea  !  Though  they 
knew  it  not,  these  elders  do  but  ask  Jesus  to  illustrate 
the  words  He  has  just  spoken,  "  Give,  and  it  shall  be 
given  unto  you."  And  had  not  Jesus  laid  this  down  as 
one  of  the  laws  of  mercy,  that  action  and  reaction  are 
equal  ?  Had  He  not  been  describing  the  orbit  in 
which  blessings  travel,  showing  that  though  its  orbit 
be  apparently  eccentric  at  times,  like  the  boomerang, 
that  wheels  round  and  comes  back  to  the  hand  that 
threw  it  forward,  the  mercy  shown  will  eventually 
come  back  to  him  who  showed  it,  with  a  wealth  of 


Tii.  I -10. J        THE  FAITH  OF   THE   CENTURION.  aoj 

heavenly  usury  ?  And  so  their  plea  was  the  one  of  all 
others  to  ht  availing.  It  was  the  precept  of  the  mount 
evolved  into  practice.  It  was,  "  Bless  him,  for  he  has 
richly  blessed  us.  He  has  opened  his  hand,  showering 
his  favours  upon  us ;  do  Thou  open  Thine  hand  now, 
and  show  him  that  the  God  of  the  Hebrews  is  a  God 
who  hears,  and  heeds,  and  helps." 

It  has  been  thought,  from  the  language  of  the  elders, 
that  the  synagogue  built  by  the  centurion  was  the 
only  one  that  Capernaum  possessed ;  for  they  speak 
of  it  as  "  the "  synagogue.  But  this  does  not  follow, 
and  indeed  it  is  most  improbable.  They  might  still 
call  it  "  the "  synagogue,  not  because  it  was  the  only 
one,  but  because  it  was  the  one  foremost  and  upper- 
most in  their  thought,  the  one  in  which  they  were 
particularly  interested.  The  definite  article  no  more 
proves  this  to  be  the  only  synagogue  in  Capernaum 
than  the  phrase  **  the  house  "  (ver.  10)  proves  the  house 
of  the  centurion  to  be  the  only  house  of  the  city.  The 
fact  is  that  in  the  Gospel  age  Capernaum  was  a  busy 
and  important  place,  as  shown  by  its  possessing  a 
garrison  of  soldiers,  and  by  its  being  the  place  of 
custom,  situated  as  it  was  on  the  great  highway  of 
trade.  And  if  Jerusalem  could  boast  of  four  hundred 
synagogues,  and  Tiberias — a  city  not  even  named  by 
the  Synoptists — fourteen,  Capernaum  certainly  would 
possess  more  than  one.  Indeed,  had  Capernaum  been 
the  insignificant  village  that  one  synagogue  would 
imply,  then,  instead  of  deserving  the  bitter  woes  Jesus 
pronounced  upon  it,  it  would  have  deserved  the  highest 
commendation,  as  the  most  fruitful  field  in  all  His 
ministry,  giving  Him,  besides  other  disciples,  a  ruler 
of  the  Jews  and  the  commandant  of  the  garrison.  That 
it  deserved  such  bitter  *'  woes  "  proves  that  Capernaum 


THE  GOSPEL  OP  ST,  LUKE, 


had  a  population  both  dense  and,  in  the  general,  hostile 
to  Jesus,  compared  with  which  His  friends  and 
adherents  were  a  feeble  few. 

In  spite  of  the  negative  manner  Jesus  purposely 
showed  at  the  first,  He  fully  intended  to  grant  all  the 
elders  had  asked,  and  allowing  them  now  to  guide 
Him,  He  "went  with  them."  When,  however,  they 
were  come  near  the  house,  the  centurion  sent  other 
"friends"  to  intercept  Jesus,  and  to  urge  Him  not  to 
take  any  further  trouble.  The  message,  which  they 
dehver  in  the  exact  form  in  which  it  was  given  to  them, 
is  so  characteristic  and  exquisitely  beautiful  that  it  is 
best  to  give  it  entire  :  "  Lord,  trouble  not  Thyself:  for 
I  am  not  worthy  that  Thou  shouldest  come  under  my 
roof:  wherefore  neither  thought  I  myself  worthy  to 
come  unto  Thee  :  but  say  the  word,  and  my  servant  shall 
be  healed.  For  I  also  am  a  man  set  under  authority, 
having  under  myself  soldiers  :  and  I  say  to  this  one,  Go, 
and  he  goeth ;  and  to  another.  Come,  and  he  cometh ; 
and  to  my  servant.  Do  this,  and  he  doeth  it." 

The  narrative  of  St.  Matthew  differs  slightly  from 
that  of  St.  Luke,  in  that  he  omits  all  reference  to  the 
two  deputations,  speaking  of  the  interview  as  being 
personal  with  the  centurion.  But  St.  Matthew's  is 
evidently  an  abbreviated  narrative,  and  he  passes  over 
the  intermediaries,  in  accordance  with  the  maxim  that 
he  who  acts  through  another  does  it  per  se.  But  both 
agree  as  to  the  terms  of  the  message,  a  message  which 
is  at  once  a  marvel  and  a  rebuke  to  us,  and  one  which 
was  indeed  deserving  of  being  twice  recorded  and 
eulogized  in  the  pages  of  the  Gospels. 

And  how  the  message  reveals  the  man,  disclosing 
as  in  a  transparency  the  character  of  this  nameless 
foreigner  I     We  have  already  seen  how  broad  were  his 


▼iii-ia]       THE  FAITH  OF  THE  CENTURION.  305 

sympathies,  and  how  generous  his  deeds,  as  he  makes 
room  in  his  large  heart  for  a  conquered  and  despised 
people,  at  his  own  cost  building  a  temple  for  the 
exercises  of  their  faith.  We  have  seen,  too,  what  a 
wealth  of  tenderness  and  benevolence  was  hiding  be- 
neath a  somewhat  stern  exterior,  in  his  affection  for  a 
servant,  and  his  anxious  solicitude  for  that  servant's 
health.  But  now  we  see  in  the  centurion  other  graces 
of  character,  that  set  him  high  amongst  those  "  outside 
saints  "  who  worshipped  in  the  outer  courts,  until  such 
time  as  the  veil  of  the  Temple  was  rent  in  twain,  and 
the  way  into  the  Holiest  was  opened  for  all.  And  what 
a  beautiful  humility  is  here  1  what  an  absence  of  as- 
sumption or  of  pride  I  Occupying  an  honoured  posi- 
tion, representing  in  his  own  person  an  empire  which 
was  world-wide,  surrounded  by  troops  of  friends,  and 
by  all  the  comforts  wealth  could  buy,  accustomed  to 
speak  in  imperative,  if  not  in  imperious  ways,  yet  as 
he  turns  towards  Jesus  it  is  with  a  respectful,  yea,  a 
reverential  demeanour.  He  feels  himself  in  the  presence 
of  some  Higher  Being,  an  unseen  but  august  Caesar. 
Nay,  not  in  His  presence  either,  for  into  that  audience- 
chamber  he  feels  that  he  has  neither  the  fitness  nor  the 
right  to  intrude.  All  that  he  can  do  is  to  send  forward 
his  petition  by  the  hands  of  worthier  advocates,  who 
have  access  to  Him,  while  he  himself  keeps  back  out 
of  sight,  with  bared  feet  standing  by  the  outer  gate. 
Others  can  speak  well  and  highly  of  him,  recounting 
his  noble  deeds,  but  of  himself  he  has  nothing  good  to 
say ;  he  can  only  speak  of  self  in  terms  of  disparage- 
ment, as  he  emphasizes  his  littleness,  his  unworthiness. 
Nor  was  it  with  him  the  conventional  hyperbole  of 
Eastern  manners ;  it  was  the  language  of  deepest, 
tincerest  truth,  when  he  said  that  he  was  not  worthy 


2o6  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

even  to  speak  with  Christ,  or  to  receive  such  a  Guest 
beneath  his  roof.  Between  himself  and  the  One  he  reve- 
rently addressed  as  "  Lord  "  there  was  an  infinite  dis 
tance ;  for  one  was  human,  while  the  Other  was  Divine. 

And  what  a  rare  and  remarkable  faith  I  In  his 
thought  Jesus  is  an  Imperator,  commanding  all  forces, 
as  He  rules  the  invisible  realms.  His  will  is  supreme 
over  all  substances,  across  all  distances.  "  Thou  hast 
no  need,  Lord,  to  take  any  trouble  about  my  poor 
request.  There  is  no  necessity  that  Thou  shouldest 
take  one  step,  or  even  lift  up  a  finger ;  Thou  hast  only 
to  speak  the  word,  and  it  is  done  ; "  and  then  he  gives 
that  wonderfully  graphic  illustration  borrowed  from  his 
own  military  life. 

The  passage  '^  For  I  also  am  a  man  set  undei 
authority "  is  generally  rendered  as  referring  to  his 
own  subordinate  position  under  the  Chiliarch.  But 
such  a  rendering,  as  it  seems  to  us,  breaks  the  con- 
tinuity of  thought,  and  grammatically  is  scarcel}i 
accurate.  The  whole  passage  is  an  amplification  and 
description  of  the  "  word  "  of  ver.  7,  and  the  ^'  also  " 
introduces  something  the  centurion  and  Jesus  possess 
in  common,  f.^.,  the  power  to  command ;  for  the  "  I 
also  "  certainly  corresponds  with  the  "  Thou  "  which  is 
implied,  but  not  expressed.  But  the  centurion  did  not 
mean  to  imply  that  Jesus  possessed  only  limited,  dele- 
gated powers  ;  this  was  farthest  from  his  thought,  and 
formed  no  part  of  the  comparison.  But  let  the  clause 
"I  also  am  a  man  set  under  authority"  be  rendered, 
not  as  referring  to  the  authority  which  is  above  him, 
but  to  that  which  is  upon  him — **  I  also  am  vested  with 
authority,"  or  "  Authority  is  put  upon  me  '* — and  the 
meaning  becomes  clear.  The  "  also "  is  no  longer 
warped  into  an  ungrammatical  meaning,  introducing  a 


vii.  i-ial       THE  FAITH  OF  THE  CENTURION,  207 

contrast  rather  than  a  likeness ;  while  the  clause  which 
follows,  "having  under  myself  soldiers,"  takes  its  proper 
place  as  an  enlargement  and  explanation  of  the  "  autho- 
rity" with  which  the  centurion  is  invested. 

The  centurion  speaks  in  a  soldierly  way.  There  is 
a  crispness  and  sharpness  about  his  tones — that  Shib- 
boleth of  militar^ism.  He  says,  "  My  word  is  all- 
powerful  in  the  ranks  which  I  command.  I  have  but 
to  say  'Come,'  or  'Go,'  and  my  word  is  instantly 
obeyed.  The  soldier  upon  whose  ear  it  falls  dare  not 
hesitate,  any  more  than  he  dare  refuse.  He  '  goes '  at 
my  word,  anywhither,  on  some  forlorn  hope  it  may  be, 
or  to  his  grave."  And  such  is  the  obedience,  instant 
and  absolute,  that  military  service  demands.  The 
soldier  must  not  question,  he  must  obey ;  he  must  not 
reason,  he  must  act ;  for  when  the  word  of  command — 
that  leaded  word  of  authority — falls  upon  his  ear,  it 
completely  fills  his  soul,  and  makes  him  deaf  to  all 
other,  meaner  voices. 

Such  was  the  thought  in  the  centurion's  mind,  and 
from  the  "go"  and  "come"  of  military  authority  to 
the  higher  "word"  of  Jesus  the  transition  is  easy. 
But  how  strong  the  faith  that  could  give  to  Jesus  such 
an  enthronement,  that  could  clothe  His  word  with  such 
superhuman  power  I  Yonder,  in  his  secluded  chamber, 
lies  the  sufferer,  his  nerves  quivering  in  their  pain, 
while  the  mortal  sickness  physicians  and  remedies 
have  all  failed  to  touch,  much  less  to  remove,  has 
dragged  him  close  up  to  the  gate  of  death.  But  this 
"word"  of  Jesus  shall  be  all-sufficient.  Spoken  here 
and  now,  it  shall  pass  over  the  intervening  streets  and 
through  the  interposing  walls  and  doors ;  it  shall  say 
to  these  demons  of  evil,  "  Loose  him,  and  let  him  go," 
and  in  a  moment  the  torturing  pain  shall  ceasCi  the 


«o8  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

fluttering  heart  shall  resume  its  healthy,  steady  beat, 
the  rigid  muscles  shall  become  pliant  as  before,  while 
through  arteries  and  veins  the  life-blood — its  poison 
all  extracted  now — shall  regain  its  healthful,  quiet  flow. 
The  centurion  believed  all  this  of  the  ^*  word  "  of  Jesus, 
and  even  more.  In  his  heart  it  was  a  word  all-potent, 
if  not  omnipotent,  like  to  the  word  of  Him  who  "  spake, 
and  it  was  done,"  who  "  commanded,  and  it  stood  fast." 
And  if  the  word  of  Jesus  in  these  realms  of  life  and 
death  was  so  imperative  and  all-commanding,  could 
the  Christ  Himself  be  less  than  Divine  ? 

To  find  such  confidence  reposed  in  Himself  was  to 
Jesus  something  new  and  to  find  this  rarest  plant  of 
faith  growing  up  on  Gentile  soil  was  a  still  greater 
marvel  and  turning  to  the  multitude  which  clustered 
thick  and  eager  around,  He  said  to  them,  "  I  have 
not  found  so  great  faith,  no,  not  in  Israel."  And 
commending  the  centurion's  faith.  He  honours  it  too, 
doing  all  he  requested,  and  even  more,  though  without 
the  "  word."  Jesus  does  not  even  say  '*  I  will,"  or 
"  Be  it  so,"  but  He  works  the  instant  and  perfect 
cure  by  a  mere  volition.  He  wills  it,  and  it  is  done, 
so  that  when  the  friends  returned  to  the  house  they 
found  the  servant  "  whole." 

Of  the  sequel  we  know  nothing.  We  do  not  even 
read  that  Jesus  saw  the  man  at  whose  faith  He  had  so 
marvelled.  But  doubtless  He  did,  for  His  heart  was 
drawn  strangely  to  him,  and  doubtless  He  gave  to 
him  m.any  of  those  "  words "  for  which  his  soul  had 
longed  and  listened,  words  in  which  were  held,  as  in 
solution,  all  authority  and  all  truth.  And  doubtless, 
too,  in  the  after-years,  Jesus  crowned  that  life  of 
faithful  but  unnoted  service  with  the  higher  "word,** 
the  heavenly  "  Well  done." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  ANOINTING  OF  THE  FEST, 

Luke  vii.  36-5a 

WHETHER  the  narrative  of  the  Anointing  it 
inserted  in  its  chronological  order  we  cannot 
say,  for  the  Evangelist  gives  us  no  word  by  which  we 
may  recognize  either  its  time  or  its  place-relation  ;  but 
we  can  easily  see  that  it  falls  into  the  story  artistically, 
with  a  singular  fitness.  Going  back  to  the  context,  we 
find  Jesus  pronouncing  a  high  eulogium  upon  John 
the  Baptist  Hereupon  the  Evangelist  adds  a  statement 
of  his  own,  calling  attention  to  the  fact  that  even 
John's  ministry  failed  to  reach  and  influence  the 
Pharisees  and  lawyers,  who  rejected  the  counsel  of 
God,  and  declined  the  baptism  of  His  messenger. 
Then  Jesus,  in  one  of  His  brief  but  exquisite  parables, 
sketches  the  character  of  the  Pharisees.  Recalling  a 
scene  of  the  market-place,  where  the  children  were 
accustomed  to  play  at  "  weddings  "  and  "  funerals  " — 
which,  by  the  way,  are  the  only  games  at  which  the 
children  of  the  land  play  to-day — and  where  sometimes 
the  play  was  spoiled  and  stopped  by  some  of  the 
children  getting  into  a  pet,  and  lapsing  into  a  sullen 
silence,  Jesus  says  that  is  just  a  picture  of  the  childish 
perversity  of  the  Pharisees.  They  respond  neither 
to  the  mourning  of  the  one  nor  to  the  music  of  the 

14 


2IO  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

Other,  but  because  John  came  neither  eating  bread  nor 
drinking  wine,  they  call  him  a  maniac,  and  say,  "  He 
hath  a  devil;"  while  of  Jesus,  who  has  no  ascetic 
ways,  but  mingles  in  the  gatherings  of  social  life,  a 
Man  amongst  men,  they  say,  "  Behold  a  gluttonous 
man  and  a  wine-bibber,  a  friend  of  publicans  and 
sinners."  And  having  recorded  this,  our  Evangelist 
inserts,  as  an  appropriate  sequel,  the  account  of  the 
supper  in  the  Pharisee's  house,  with  its  idyllic  interlude, 
played  by  a  woman's  hand,  a  narrative  which  shows 
how  Wisdom  is  justified  of  all  her  children,  and  how 
these  condescensions  of  Jesus,  His  intercourse  with 
even  those  who  were  ceremonially  or  morally  unclean, 
were  both  proper  and  beautiful. 

It  was  in  one  of  the  Galilean  towns,  perhaps  at  Nain, 
where  Jesus  was  surprised  at  receiving  an  invitation 
to  the  house  of  a  Pharisee.  Such  courtesies  on  the 
part  of  a  class  who  prided  themselves  on  their  exclu- 
siveness,  and  who  were  bitterly  intolerant  of  all  who 
were  outside  their  narrow  circle,  were  exceptional  and 
rare.  Besides,  the  teaching  of  Jesus  was  diametrically 
opposed  to  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees.  Between  the 
caste  of  the  one  and  the  Catholicism  of  the  other  was 
a  wide  gulf  of  divergence.  To  Jesus  the  heart  was 
everything,  and  the  outflowing  issues  were  coloured 
by  its  hues  ;  to  the  Pharisees  the  hand,  the  outward 
touch,  was  more  than  heart,  and  contact  more  than 
conduct.  Jesus  laid  a  Divine  emphasis  upon  character; 
the  cleanness  He  demanded  was  moral  cleanness, 
purity  of  heart ;  that  of  the  Pharisees  was  a  ceremonial 
cleanness,  the  avoidance  of  things  which  were  under 
a  ceremonial  ban.  And  so  they  magnified  the  jots  and 
tittles,  scrupulously  tithing  their  mint  and  anise,  while 
they  overlooked  completely  the  moralities  of  the  heart, 


vii.  36-50.J       THE  ANOINTING  OF  THE  FEET.  an 

and  reduced  to  a  mere  nothing  those  grander  virtues 
of  mercy  and  of  justice.  Between  the  Separatists  and 
Jesus  there  was  therefore  constant  friction,  which 
afterwards  developed  into  open  hostility ;  and  while 
they  ever  sought  to  damage  Him  with  opprobrious 
epithets,  and  to  bring  His  teaching  into  disrepute,  He 
did  not  fail  to  expose  their  hollowness  and  insincerity, 
tearing  off  the  veneer  with  which  they  sought  to  hide 
the  brood  of  viperous  things  their  c»eed  had  gendered, 
and  to  hurl  against  their  whited  sepulchres  His  indig- 
nant "woes." 

It  would  almost  seem  as  if  Jesus  hesitated  in  accept- 
ing the  invitation,  for  the  tense  of  the  verb  "  desired  " 
implies  that  the  request  was  repeated.  Possibly 
other  arrangements  had  been  made,  or  perhaps  Jesus 
sought  to  draw  out  and  test  the  sincerity  of  the 
Pharisee,  who  in  kind  and  courteous  words  offered  his 
hospitality.  The  hesitation  would  certainly  not  arise 
from  any  reluctance  on  His  part,  for  Jesus  refused  no 
open  door ;  he  welcomed  any  opportunity  of  influenc- 
ing a  soul.  As  the  shepherd  of  His  own  parable  went 
over  the  mountainous  paths  in  quest  of  his  lone,  lost 
sheep,  so  Jesus  was  glad  to  risk  unkind  aspersions, 
and  to  bear  the  "  fierce  light "  of  hostile,  questioning 
eyes,  if  He  might  but  rescue  a  soul,  and  win  some 
erring  one  back  to  virtue  and  to  truth. 

The  character  of  the  host  we  cannot  exactly  deter- 
mine. The  narrative  lights  up  his  features  but  indis- 
tinctly, for  the  nameless  ^^sinner  "  is  the  central  object 
of  the  picture,  while  Simon  stands  in  the  background, 
out  of  focus,  and  so  somewhat  veiled  in  obscurity.  To 
many  he  appears  as  the  cold  and  heartless  censor, 
distant  and  haughty,  seeking  by  the  guile  of  hospitality 
to  entrap  Jesus,  hiding  behind  the  mask  of  friendship 


2lt  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

some  dark  and  sinister  motive.  But  such  deep  shadows 
are  cast  by  our  own  thoughts  rather  than  by  the 
narrative ;  they  are  the  random  "  guesses  after  truth/' 
instead  of  the  truth  itself.  It  will  be  noticed  that 
Jesus  does  not  impugn  in  the  least  his  motive  in 
proffering  his  hospitality ;  and  this,  though  but  a 
negative  evidence,  is  not  without  its  weight,  when  on 
a  similar  occasion  the  evil  motive  was  brought  to  light. 
The  only  charge  laid  against  him — if  charge  it  be — 
was  the  omission  of  certain  points  of  etiquette  that 
Eastern  hospitality  was  accustomed  to  observe,  and 
even  here  there  is  nothing  to  show  that  Jesus  was 
treated  differently  from  the  other  invited  guests.  The 
omission,  while  it  failed  to  single  out  Jesus  for  special 
honour,  might  still  mean  no  disrespect;  and  at  the 
most  it  was  a  breach  of  manners,  deportment,  rather 
than  of  morals,  just  one  of  those  lapses  Jesus  was  most 
ready  to  overlook  and  forgive.  We  shall  form  a  juster 
estimate  of  the  man's  character  if  we  regard  him  as  a 
seeker  after  truth.  Evidently  he  has  felt  a  drawing 
towards  Jesus  ;  indeed,  ver.  47  would  almost  imply  that 
he  had  received  some  personal  benefit  at  His  hands. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  he  is  desirous  of  a  closer  and  a  freer 
intercourse.  His  mind  is  perplexed,  the  balances  of 
his  judgment  swinging  in  alternate  and  opposite  ways. 
A  new  problem  has  presented  itself  to  him,  and  in  that 
problem  is  one  factor  he  cannot  yet  value.  It  is  the 
unknown  quantity,  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  Who  is  He  ? 
what  is  He?  A  prophet — the  Prophet — the  Christ? 
Such  are  the  questions  running  through  his  mind — 
questions  which  must  be  answered  soon,  as  his  thoughts 
and  opinions  have  ripened  into  convictions.  And  so 
he  invites  Jesus  to  his  house  and  board,  that  in 
the  nearer  vision  and  the  unfettered  freedom  of  social 


▼tt.  36-50.]       THE  ANOINTING  OF  THE  FEET  S13 

intercourse  he  may  solve  the  great  enigma.  Nay,  he 
invites  Jesus  with  a  degree  of  earnestness,  putting 
upon  Him  the  constraint  of  a  great  desire;  and 
leaving  his  heart  open  to  conviction,  ready  to  embrace 
the  truth  as  soon  as  he  recognizes  it  to  be  truth,  he 
flings  open  the  door  of  his  hospitalities,  though  in  so 
doing  he  shakes  the  whole  fabric  of  Pharisaic  exclusive- 
ness  and  sanctity.  Seeking  after  truth,  the  truth  finds 
him. 

There  was  a  simplicity  and  freeness  in  the  social 
life  of  the  East  which  our  Western  civilization  can 
scarcely  understand.  The  door  of  the  guest-chamber 
was  left  open,  and  the  uninvited,  even  comparative 
strangers,  were  allowed  to  pass  in  and  out  during  the 
entertainment;  or  they  might  take  their  seats  by  the 
wall,  as  spectators  and  listeners.  It  was  so  here.  No 
sooner  have  the  guests  taken  their  places,  reclining 
around  the  table,  their  bared  feet  projecting  behind 
them,  than  the  usual  drift  of  the  uninvited  set  in, 
amongst  whom,  almost  unnoticed  in  the  excitements  of 
the  hour,  was  "  a  woman  of  the  city."  Simon  in  his 
soliloquy  speaks  of  her  as  "  a  sinner ;  "  but  had  we  his 
testimony  only,  we  should  hesitate  in  giving  to  the 
word  its  usually  received  meaning  ;  for  "  sinner  "  was 
a  pet  term  of  the  Pharisees,  applied  to  all  who  were 
outside  their  circle,  and  even  to  Jesus  Himself.  But 
when  our  Evangelist,  in  describing  her  character,  makes 
use  of  the  same  word,  we  can  only  interpret  the  *'  sin- 
ner" in  one  way,  in  its  sensual,  depraved  meaning. 
And  with  this  agrees  the  phrase  "  a  woman  which  was 
in  the  city,"  which  seems  to  indicate  the  loose  rela- 
tions of  her  too-public  life. 

Bearing  in  her  hand  "an  alabaster  cruse  of  oint- 
ment," for  a  purpose  which  soon  became  apparent,  she 


214  7*//^  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

passed  over  to  the  place  where  Jesus  sat,  and  stood 
directly  behind  Him.  Accustomed  as  she  had  been  to 
hide  her  deeds  in  the  veil  of  darkness,  nothing  but  the 
current  of  a  deep  emotion  could  have  carried  her  thus 
through  the  door  of  the  guest-chamber,  setting  her, 
alone  of  her  sex,  full  in  the  glare  of  the  lamps  and  the 
light  of  scornful  eyes ;  and  no  sooner  has  she  reached 
her  goal  than  the  storm  of  the  heart  breaks  in  a  rain 
of  tears,  which  fall  hot  and  fast  upon  the  feet  of  the 
Master.  This,  however,  is  no  part  of  her  plan ;  they 
were  impromptu  tears  she  could  not  restrain ;  and 
instantly  she  stoops  down,  and  with  the  loosened 
tresses  of  her  hair  she  wipes  His  feet,  kissing  them 
passionately  as  she  did  so.  There  is  a  delicate  mean- 
ing in  the  construction  of  the  Greek  verb,  "  she  began 
to  wet  His  feet  with  her  tears ; "  it  implies  that  the 
action  was  not  continued,  as  when  afterwards  she 
"  anointed "  His  feet.  It  was  momentary,  instanta- 
neous, checked  soon  as  it  was  discovered.  Then  pour- 
ing from  her  flask  the  fragrant  nard,  she  proceeded  with 
loving,  leisurely  haste  to  anoint  His  feet,  until  the  whole 
chamber  was  redolent  of  the  sweet  perfume. 

But  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  strange  episode, 
this  "song  without  words,"  struck  by  the  woman's 
hands  as  from  a  lyre  of  alabaster  ?  It  was  evidently 
something  determined,  prearranged.  The  phrase  "  when 
she  knew  that  He  was  sitting  at  meat "  means  some- 
thing more  than  she  "heard."  Her  knowledge  as  to 
where  Jesus  was  had  not  come  to  her  in  a  casual  way, 
in  the  vagrant  gossip  of  the  town;  it  had  come  by 
search  and  inquiry  on  her  part,  as  if  the  plan  were 
already  determined,  and  she  were  eager  to  carry  it  out. 
The  cruse  of  ointment  that  she  brings  also  reveals  the 
settled   resolve  that  she  came  on  purpose,  and   she 


Tii. 36-50.)       THE  ANOINTING   OF  THE  FEET.  «i5 

came  only,  to  anoint  the  feet  of  Jesus.  The  word,  too, 
rendered  ''she  brought"  has  a  deeper  meaning  than 
our  translation  conveys.  It  is  a  word  that  is  used  in 
ten  other  passages  of  the  New  Testament,  where  it 
is  invariably  rendered  ''receive/' or  "received,"  refer- 
ring to  something  received  as  a  wage,  or  as  a  gift,  or 
as  a  prize.  Used  here  in  the  narrative,  it  implies  that 
the  cruse  of  ointment  had  not  been  bought;  it  was 
something  she  had  received  as  a  gift,  or  possibly  as 
the  wages  of  her  sin.  And  not  only  was  it  prearranged, 
part  of  a  deliberate  intention,  but  evidently  it  was  not 
displeasing  to  Jesus.  He  did  not  resent  it.  He  gives 
Himself  up  passively  to  the  woman's  will.  He  allows 
her  to  touch,  and  even  to  kiss  His  feet,  though  He 
knows  that  to  society  she  is  a  moral  leper,  and  that 
her  fragrant  ointment  is  possibly  the  reward  of  her 
shame.  We  must,  then,  look  behind  the  deed  to  the 
motive.  To  Jesns  the  ointment  and  the  tears  were 
full  of  meaning,  eloquent  beyond  any  power  of  words. 
Can  we  discover  that  meaning,  and  read  why  they 
were  so  welcome  ?     We  think  we  may. 

And  here  let  us  say  that  Simon's  thoughts  were 
perfectly  natural  and  correct,  with  no  word  or  tone 
that  we  can  censure.  Canon  Farrar,  it  is  true,  detects 
in  the  "  This  man  "  with  which  he  speaks  of  Jesus  a 
"  supercilious  scorn ; "  but  we  fail  to  see  the  least 
scorn,  or  even  disrespect,  for  the  pronoun  Simon  uses 
is  the  identical  word  used  by  St.  Matthew  (Matt.  iii.  3), 
of  John  the  Baptist,  when  he  says,  "  This  is  he  that  was 
spoken  of  by  the  prophet  Esaias,"  and  the  word  of  th 
"  voice  from  heaven  "  which  said,  **  This  is  My  beloved 
Son"  (Matt.  iii.  17).  That  the  woman  was  a  sinner 
Simon  knew  well ;  and  would  not  Jesus  know  it  too,  if 
He  were  a  prophet?     Doubtless  He  would;  but  as 


ai6  THE  GOSF-EL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

Simon  marks  no  sign  of  disapproval  upon  the  face  of 
Jesus,  the  enigmatical  "if"  grows  larger  in  his  mind, 
and  he  begins  to  think  that  Jesus  has  scarcely  the  pre- 
science— the  power  of  seeing  through  things — that  a 
true  prophet  would  have.  Simon's  reasoning  was  right, 
but  his  facts  were  wrong.  He  imagined  that  Jesus  did 
not  know  "  who  and  what  manner  of  woman  "  this  was ; 
whereas  Jesus  knew  more  than  he,  for  He  knew  not  only 
the  past  of  shame,  but  a  present  of  forgiveness  and  hope. 
And  what  did  the  tears  and  the  ointment  mean,  that 
Jesus  should  receive  them  so  readily,  and  that  He  should 
speak  of  them  so  approvingly?  The  parable  Jesus 
spoke  to  Simon  will  explain  it.  "  Simon,  I  have  some- 
what to  say  unto  thee,"  said  Jesus,  answering  his 
thoughts — for  He  had  heard  them — by  words.  And 
falling  naturally  into  the  parabolic,  form  of  speech — as 
He  did  when  He  wanted  to  make  His  meaning  more 
startling  and  impressive — He  said,  **  A  certain  money- 
lender had  two  debtors :  the  one  owed  five  hundred 
pence,  and  the  other  fifty.  When  they  had  not  where- 
with to  pay,  he  forgave  them  both.  Which  of  them 
therefore  will  love  him  most  ? "  A  question  to  which 
Simon  could  promptly  answer,  "  He,  I  suppose,  to 
whom  he  forgave  the  most."  It  is  clear,  then,  what- 
ever others  might  see  in  the  woman's  deed,  that  Jesus 
read  in  it  the  expression  of  her  love,  and  that  He 
accepted  it  as  such ;  the  tears  and  outpoured  ointment 
were  the  broken  utterances  of  an  affection  which  was 
too  deep  for  words.  But  if  her  offering — as  it  certainly 
was — was  the  gift  of  love,  how  shall  we  explain  her 
tears  ?  for  love,  in  the  presence  of  the  beloved,  does 
not  weep  so  passionate!} .  indeed  does  not  weep  at  all, 
except,  it  may  be,  tears  of  joy,  or  tears  of  a  mutual 
sorrow.     In  this  way:   As  the  wind  blows  landward 


rii.36-So.l       THE  ANOINTING   OF  THE  FEET.  ai7 

from  the  sea,  the  mountain  ranges  cool  the  clouds,  and 
cause  them  to  unlock  their  treasures,  in  the  fertile  and 
refreshing  rains;  so  in  the  heart  of  this  "sinner"  a 
cloud  of  recollections  is  blown  up  suddenly  from  her 
dark  past ;  the  memories  of  her  shame — even  though 
that  shame  be  now  forgiven — sweep  across  her  soul 
with  resistless  force,  for  penitence  does  not  end  when 
forgiveness  is  assured;  and  as  she  finds  herself  in 
the  presence  of  Infinite  Purity,  what  wonder  that  the 
heart's  great  deeps  are  broken  up,  and  that  the  wild 
storm  of  conflicting  emotions  within  should  find  relief 
in  a  rain  of  tears  ?  Tears  of  penitence  they  doubtless 
were,  bitter  with  the  sorrow  and  the  shame  of  years 
of  guilt ;  but  they  were  tears  of  gratitude  and  holy  love 
as  well,  all  suffused  and  brightened  by  the  touch  of 
mercy  and  the  light  of  hope.  And  ^o  the  passionate 
weeping  was  no  acted  grief,  no  hysterical  tempest ;  it 
was  the  perfectly  natural  accompaniment  of  profound 
emotion,  that  storm  of  mingled  but  diverse  elements 
which  now  swept  through  her  soul.  Her  tears,  like 
the  dew-drops  that  hang  upon  leaf  and  flower,  were 
wrought  in  the  darkness,  fashioned  by  the  Night,  and 
at  the  same  time  they  were  the  jewels  that  graced  the 
robe  of  a  new  dawn,  the  dawn  of  a  better,  a  purer 
life. 

But  how  came  this  new  affection  within  her  heart, 
an  affection  so  deep  that  it  must  have  tears  and  anoint- 
ings for  its  expression — this  new  affection,  which  has 
become  a  pure  and  holy  passion,  and  which  breaks 
through  conventional  bonds,  as  it  has  broken  through 
the  old  habits,  the  ill  usages  of  a  life  ?  Jesus  Himself 
traces  for  us  this  affection  to  its  source.  He  tells  us — 
for  the  parable  is  all  meaningless  unless  we  recognize 
in  the  five-hundred-pence  debtor  the  sinning  woman — 


ai8  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

that  her  great  love  grows  out  of  her  great  forgivenessr 
a  past  forgiveness  too,  for  Jesus  speaks  of  the  change 
as  already  accomplished  :  "  Her  sins,  which  were  many, 
are  (have  been)  forgiven."  And  here  we  touch  an  un- 
written chapter  of  the  Divine  Hfe;  for  as  the  woman's 
love  flows  up  around  Jesus,  casting  its  treasures  at 
His  feet,  so  the  forgiveness  must  first  have  come 
from  Jesus.  His  voice  it  must  have  been  which  said, 
*'  Let  there  be  light,"  and  which  turned  the  chaos  of 
her  dark  soul  into  another  Paradise.  At  any  rate,  she 
thinks  she  owes  to  Him  her  all.  Her  new  creation, 
with  its  deliverance  from  the  tyrannous  past ;  her  new 
joys  and  hopes,  the  spring-blossom  of  a  new  and 
heavenly  existence;  the  conscious  purity  which  has 
now  taken  the  place  of  lust — she  owes  all  to  the  word 
and  power  of  Jesus.  But  when  this  change  took  place, 
or  when,  in  the  great  transit,  this  Venus  of  the  moral 
firmament  passed  across  the  disc  of  the  Sun,  we  do  not 
know.  St.  John  inserts  in  his  story  one  little  incident, 
which  is  like  a  piece  of  mosaic  dropped  out  from  the 
Gospels  of  the  Synoptists,  of  a  woman  who  was  taken 
in  her  sin  and  brought  to  Jesus.  And  when  the  hands 
of  her  accusers  were  not  clean  enough  to  cast  the  first 
stone,  but  they  shrank  one  by  one  out  of  sight,  self- 
condemned,  Jesus  bade  the  penitent  one  to  "  go  in 
peace,  and  sin  no  more."  *  Are  the  two  characters 
identical  ?  and  does  the  forgiven  one,  dismissed  into 
peace,  now  return  to  bring  to  her  Saviour  her  offer- 
ing of  gratitude  and  love  ?  We  can  only  say  that  such 
an  identification  is  at  least  possible,  and  more  so  far 
than  the  improbable  identification  of  tradition,  which 

•  The  narrative  is  of  doubtful  authenticity ;  but  even  should  it  be 
proved  to  be  a  postscript  by  some  later  scribe,  it  would  still  point 
to  a  tradition,  which,  as  Stier  says,  was  "well  founded  and  genuine/ 


▼it  36-50-]       THE  ANOINTING  OF  THE  FEET.  ai9 

confounds  this  nameless  "sinner"  with  Mary  Mag- 
dalene, which  is  an  assumption  perfectly  baseless  and 
most  unlikely. 

And  so  in  this  erring  one,  who  now  puts  her  crown 
of  fragrance  upon  the  feet  of  Jesus,  since  she  is  un- 
worthy to  put  it  upon  His  head,  we  see  a  penitent 
and  forgiven  soul.  Somewhere  Jesus  found  her,  out 
on  the  forbidden  paths,  the  paths  of  sin,  which,  steep 
and  slippery,  lead  down  to  death ;  His  look  arrested  her, 
for  it  cast  within  her  heart  the  light  of  a  new  hope ; 
His  presence,  which  was  the  embodiment  of  a  purity 
infinite  and  absolute,  shot  through  her  soul  the  deep 
consciousness  and  conviction  of  her  guilt ;  and  doubt- 
less upon  her  ears  had  fallen  the  words  of  the  great 
absolution  and  the  Divine  benediction,  "  Thy  sins  are 
all  forgiven ;  go  in  peace,"  words  which  to  her  made 
all  things  new — a  new  heart  within,  and  a  new  earth 
around.  And  now,  regenerate  and  restored,  the  sad 
past  forgiven,  all  the  currents  of  her  thought  and  life 
reversed,  the  love  of  sin  turned  into  a  perfect  loathing, 
her  language,  spoken  in  tears,  kisses,  and  fragrant 
nard,  is  the  language  of  the  Psalmist,  "  O  Lord,  I  will 
praise  Thee ;  for  though  Thou  wast  angry  with  me. 
Thine  anger  is  turned  away,  and  Thou  comfortedst 
me."  It  was  the  Magnificat  of  a  forgiven  and  a  loving 
soul. 

Simon  had  watched  the  woman's  actions  in  silence, 
though  in  evident  displeasure.  He  would  have  resented 
her  touch,  and  have  forbade  even  her  presence ;  but 
found  under  his  roof,  she  became  in  a  certain  sense 
a  guest,  shielded  by  the  hospitable  courtesies  of  Eastern 
life.  But  if  he  said  nothing,  he  thought  much,  and  his 
thoughts  were  hard  and  bitter.  He  looked  upon  the 
woman  as  a  moral  leper,  an  outcast.     There  was  defile- 


220  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

ment  in  her  touch,  and  he  would  have  shaken  it  off 
from  him  as  if  it  were  a  viper,  fit  #;nly  to  be  cast  into 
the  fire  of  a  burning  indignation.  Now  Jesus  must 
teach  him  a  lesson,  and  throw  his  thoughts  back  upon 
himself.  And  first  He  teaches  him  that  there  is  for- 
giveness for  sin,  even  the  sin  of  uncleanness;  and 
in  this  we  see  the  bringing  in  of  a  better  hope.  The 
Law  said,  "The  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  surely  die;" 
it  shall  be  cut  off  from  the  people  of  Israel.  The  Law 
had  but  one  voice  for  the  adulterer  and  adulteress, 
the  voice  which  was  the  knell  of  a  sharp  and  fearful 
doom,  without  reprieve  or  mercy  of  any  kind.  It  cast 
upon  them  the  deadly  rain  of  stones,  as  if  it  would 
hurl  a  whole  Sinai  upon  them.  But  Jesus  comes  to 
man  with  a  message  of  mercy  and  of  hope.  He  pro- 
claims a  deliverance  from  the  sin,  and  a  pardon  for  the 
sinner ;  nay,  He  offers  Himself,  as  at  once  the  Forgiver 
of  sin  and  the  Saviour  from  sin.  Let  Him  but  see 
it  repented  of;  let  Him  but  see  the  tears  of  penitence, 
or  hear  the  sighs  of  a  broken  and  contrite  heart,  and 
He  steps  forward  at  once  to  deliver  and  to  save.  The 
Valley  of  Achor,  where  the  Law  sets  up  its  memorial  of 
shame,  Jesus  turns  into  a  door  of  hope.  He  speaks 
life  where  the  Law  spoke  death  ;  He  offers  hope  where 
the  Law  gave  but  despair ;  and  where  exacting  Law 
gave  pains  and  fearful  punishment  only,  the  Mediator 
of  the  New  Covenant,  to  the  penitent  though  erring 
ones,  spoke  pardon  and  peace,  even  the  perfect  peace, 
the  eternal  peace. 

And  Jesus  teaches  Simon  another  lesson.  He  teaches 
him  to  judge  himself,  and  not  either  by  his  own  fictitious 
standard,  by  the  Pharisaic  table  of  excellence,  but  by 
the  Divine  standard.  Holding  up  as  a  mirror  the 
example  of  the  woman,  Jesus  gives  to  Simon  a  portrait 


rU.  36-50.J       THE  ANOINTING   OF  THE  FEET.  221 

of  his  own  self,  as  seen  in  the  heavenly  light,  all 
shrunken  and  dwarfed,  the  large  "  I "  of  Pharisaic 
complacency  becoming,  in  comparison,  small  indeed. 
Turning  to  the  woman.  He  said  unto  Simon,  "Seest 
thou  this  woman  ?  "  (And  Simon  had  not  seen  her ; 
he  had  only  seen  her  shadow,  the  shadow  of  her  sinful 
past).  "  I  entered  into  thine  house ;  thou  gavest  Me  no 
water  for  My  feet:  but  she  hath  wetted  My  feet  with 
her  tears,  and  wiped  them  with  her  hair.  Thou  gavest 
Me  no  kiss:  but  she,  since  the  time  I  came  in,  hath 
not  ceased  to  kiss  My  feet.  My  head  with  oil  thou 
didst  not  anoint :  but  she  hath  anointed  My  feet  with 
ointment."  It  is  a  problem  of  the  pronouns,  in  which 
the  '*  I "  being  given,  it  is  desired  to  find  the  relative 
values  of  "thou"  and  ''she."  And  how  beautifully 
does  Jesus  work  it  out,  according  to  the  rules  of  Divine 
proportions  I  With  what  antithetical  skill  does  He 
make  His  comparison,  or  rather  His  contrast !  "  Thou 
gavest  me  no  water  for  My  feet ;  she  hath  wetted  My 
feet  with  her  tears^  and  wiped  them  with  her  hair. 
Thou  gavest  me  no  kiss :  she  hath  not  ceased  to  kiss  my 
feet.  My  head  with  oil  thou  didst  not  anoint :  she  hath 
anointed  My  feet  with  ointment." 

And  so  Jesus  sets  over  against  the  omissions  of 
Simon  the  loving  and  lavish  attentions  of  the  woman ; 
and  while  reproving  him,  not  for  a  lack  of  civility,  but 
for  a  want  of  heartiness  in  his  reception  of  Himself, 
He  shows  how  deep  and  full  run  the  currents  of  her 
affection,  breaking  through  the  banks  and  bounds  of 
conventionality  in  their  sweet  overflow,  while  as  yet 
the  currents  of  his  love  were  intermittent,  shallow,  and 
somewhat  cold.  He  does  not  denounce  this  Simon  as 
having  no  part  or  lot  in  this  matter.  No ;  He  even 
credits  him  with  a  little  love,  as  He  speaks  of  him  as  a 


33S  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE. 

pardoned,  justified  soul.  And  it  was  true.  The  heart 
of  Simon  had  been  drawn  toward  Jesus,  and  in  the 
urgent  invitation  and  these  proffered  hospitalities  we 
can  discern  a  nascent  affection.  His  love  is  yet  but  in 
the  bud.  It  is  there,  a  thing  of  life  ;  but  it  is  confined, 
constrained,  and  lacking  the  sweetness  of  the  ripened 
and  opened  flower.  Jesus  does  not  cut  off  the  budding 
affection,  and  cast  it  out  amongst  the  withered  and  dead 
things,  but  sprinkling  it  with  the  dew  of  His  speech, 
and  throwing  upon  it  the  sunshine  of  His  approving 
look,  He  leaves  it  to  develop,  ripening  into  an  after- 
harvest  of  fragrance  and  of  beauty.  And  why  was 
Simon's  love  more  feeble  and  immature  than  that  of  the 
woman  ?  First,  because  he  did  not  see  so  much  in 
Jesus  as  she  did.  He  was  yet  stumbling  over  the  "  if," 
with  some  lingering  doubts  as  to  whether  He  were 
"  the  prophet ; "  to  her  He  is  more  than  a  "  prophet/' 
even  her  Lord  and  her  Saviour,  covering  her  past 
with  a  mantle  of  mercy,  and  opening  within  her  heart 
a  heaven.  Then,-  too,  Simon's  forgiveness  was  not  so 
great  as  hers.  Not  that  any  forgiveness  can  be  less 
than  entire ;  for  when  Heaven  saves  it  is  not  a  salva- 
tion by  instalments — certain  sins  remitted,  while  others 
are  held  back  uncancelled.  But  Simon's  views  of  sin 
were  not  so  sharp  and  vivid  as  were  those  of  the 
woman.  The  atmosphere  of  Phariseeism  in  its  moral 
aspects  was  hazy ;  it  magnified  human  virtues,  and 
created  all  sorts  of  illusive  mirages  of  self-righteousness 
and  reputed  holiness,  and  doubtless  Simon's  vision 
had  been  impaired  by  the  refracting  atmosphere  of  his 
creed.  The  greatness  of  our  salvation  is  ever  measured 
by  the  greatness  of  our  danger  and  our  guilt.  The 
heavier  the  burden  and  weight  of  condemnation,  the 
deeper  is  the  peace  and  the  higher  are  the  ecstasies  of 


viL  36-50.)       THE   ANOINTING   OF   THE  FEET.  223 

joy  when  that  condemnation  is  removed.  Shall  we  say, 
then,  "We  must  sin  more,  that  love  may  more  abound  "? 
Nay,  we  need  not,  we  must  not ;  for  as  Godet  says, 
"  What  is  wanting  to  the  best  of  us,  in  order  to  love 
much,  is  not  sin,  but  the  knowledge  of  it."  And  this 
deeper  knowledge  of  sin,  the  more  vivid  realization  of 
its  guilt,  its  virulence,  its  all-pervasiveness,  comes 
just  in  proportion  as  we  approach  Christ.  Standing 
close  up  to  the  cross,  feehng  the  mortal  agonies  of 
Him  whose  death  was  necessary  as  sin's  atonement, 
in  that  vivid  light  of  redeeming  love  even  the  strict 
moralist,  the  Pharisee  of  the  Pharisees,  could  speak  of 
himself  as  the  "chief"  of  sinners. 

The  lesson  was  over,  and  Jesus  dismissed  the  woman 
— who,  with  her  empty  alabaster  flask,  had  lingered  at 
the  feast,  and  who  had  heard  all  the  conversation — 
with  the  double  assurance  of  pardon :  "  Thy  sins  are 
forgiven ;  thy  faith  hath  saved  thee ;  go  in  peace." 
And  such  is  the  Divine  order  everywhere  and  always — 
Faith,  Love,  Peace.  Faith  is  the  procuring  cause,  or 
the  condition  of  salvation  ;  love  and  peace  are  its  after- 
fruits  ;  for  without  faith,  love  would  be  only  fear,  and 
peace  itself  would  be  unrest. 

She  went  in  peace,  "  the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth 
all  understanding ; "  but  she  left  behind  her  the  music 
of  her  tears  and  the  sweet  fragrance  of  her  deed,  a 
fragrance  and  a  music  which  have  filled  the  whole 
world,  and  which,  floating  across  the  valley  of  death, 
will  pass  up  into  heaven  itself  I 

There  was  still  one  little  whisper  of  murmuring,  or 
questioning  rather ;  for  the  guests  were  startled  by  the 
boldness  of  His  words,  and  asked  among  themselves, 
**  Who  is  this  that  even  forgiveth  sins  ?  "  But  it  will 
be  noticed  that  Simon  himself  is  no  longer  among  the 


224  TWS  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE. 

questioners,  the  doubters.  Jesus  is  to  him  "  the  Pro- 
phet," and  more  than  a  prophet,  for  who  can  forgive 
sins  but  God  alone  ?  And  though  we  hear  no  more 
of  him  or  of  his  deeds,  we  may  rest  assured  that 
his  conquered  heart  was  given  without  reserve  to 
Jesus,  and  that  he  too  learned  to  love  with  a  true 
affection,  even  with  the  "  perfect  love,"  which  "  casteth 
out  fear." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE  PARABLE  OF    THE  SOWER. 
Luke  viii.  1-18. 

IN  a  single  parenthetical  sentence  our  Evangelist 
indicates  a  marked  change  in  the  mode  of  the 
Divine  ministry.  Hitherto  "His  own  city,"  Capernaum, 
has  been  a  sort  of  centre,  from  which  the  lines  of  light 
and  blessing  have  radiated.  Now,  however.  He  leaves 
Capernaum,  and  makes  a  circuit  through  the  province 
of  Galilee,  going  through  its  cities  and  villages  in  a 
systematic,  and  as  the  verb  would  imply,  a  leisurely 
way,  preaching  the  "good  tidings  of  the  kingdom  of 
God."  Though  no  mention  is  made  of  them,  we  are 
not  to  suppose  that  miracles  were  suspended;  but 
evidently  they  were  set  in  the  background,  as  secondary 
things,  the  by-plays  or  "  asides  "  of  the  Divine  Teacher, 
who  now  is  intent  upon  delivering  His  message,  the 
last  message,  too,  that  they  would  hear  from  Him. 
Accompanying  Him,  and  forming  an  imposing  demon- 
stration, were  His  twelve  disciples,  together  with 
"many"  women,  who  ministered  unto  them  of  their 
substance,  among  whom  were  three  prominent  ones, 
probably  persons  of  position  and  influence — Mary  of 
Magdala,  Joanna,  wife  of  Chuza,  Herod's  steward, 
and  Susanna,  who  had  been  healed  by  Jesus  of 
"evil spirits  and  infirmities" — which  last  word,  in  New 
Testament  language,  is  a  synonym  for  physical  weak- 


3a6  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

ness  and  disorder.  Of  the  particulars  and  results  of 
this  mission  we  know  nothing,  unless  we  may  see, 
in  the  "  great  multitude  "  which  followed  and  thronged 
Jesus  on  His  return,  the  harvest  reaped  from  the 
Galilean  hills.  Our  Evangelist,  at  any  rate,  hnks  them 
together,  as  if  the  ''great  multitude"  which  now  lines 
the  shore  was,  in  part  at  least,  the  cloud  of  eager  souls 
which  had  been  caught  up  and  borne  along  on  His 
fervid  speech,  as  the  echoes  of  the  kingdom  went 
resounding  among  the  hills  and  vales  of  Galilee. 

Returning  to  Capernaum,  whither  the  crowds  follow 
Him,  every  city  sending  its  contingent  of  curious  or 
conquered  souls,  Jesus,  as  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark 
inform  us,  leaves  the  house,  and  seeks  the  open  stretch 
of  shore,  where  from  a  boat — probably  the  familiar  boat 
of  Simon — He  addresses  the  multitudes,  adopting  now, 
as  His  favourite  mode  of  speech,  the  amplified  parable. 
It  is  probable  that  He  had  observed  on  the  part  of 
His  disciples  an  undue  elation  of  spirit.  Reading  the 
crowds  numerically,  and  not  discerning  the  different 
motives  which  had  brought  them  together,  their  eyes 
deceived  them.  They  imagined  that  these  eager  multi- 
tudes were  but  a  wave-sheaf  of  the  harvest  already 
ripe,  which  only  waited  their  gathering-in.  But  it  is 
not  so ;  and  Jesus  sifts  and  winnows  His  audience, 
to  show  His  disciples  that  the  apparent  is  not  always 
the  real,  and  that  between  the  hearers  of  the  word 
and  the  doers  there  will  ever  be  a  wide  margin  ot 
disappointment  and  comparative  failure.  The  harvest, 
in  God's  husbandry,  as  in  man's,  does  not  depend 
altogether  upon  the  quality  of  the  seed  or  the  faithful- 
ness of  the  sower,  but  upon  the  nature  of  the  soil  on 
which  it  falls. 

As  the  sower  went  forth  to  sow  his  seed,  "  some  fell 


TiiLi-i8.]       THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER.  aay 

by  the  way-side,  and  it  was  trodden  under-foot,  and  the 
birds  of  the  heaven  devoured  it."  In  his  carefulness 
to  cover  all  his  ground,  the  sower  had  gone  close  up 
to  the  boundary,  and  some  of  the  seed  had  fallen  on 
the  edge  of  the  bare  and  trampled  path,  where  it  lay 
homeless  and  exposed.  It  was  in  contact  with  the 
earth,  but  it  was  a  mechanical,  and  not  a  vital  touch. 
There  was  no  correspondence,  no  communion  between 
them.  Instead  of  welcoming  and  nourishing  the  seed, 
it  held  it  aloof,  in  a  cold,  repelling  way.  Had  the  soil 
been  sympathetic  and  receptive,  it  held  within  itself 
all  the  elements  of  growth.  Touched  by  the  subtle 
life  that  was  hidden  within  the  seed,  the  dead  earth 
itself  had  lived,  growing  up  into  blades  of  promise, 
and  from  the  full  ear  throwing  itself  forward  into  the 
future  years.  But  the  earth  was  hard  and  unreceptive  ; 
its  possibilities  of  blessing  were  locked  up  and  buried 
beneath  a  crust  of  trampled  soil  that  was  callous  and 
unresponsive  as  the  rock  itself.  And  so  the  seed  lay 
unwelcomed  and  alone,  and  the  life  which  the  warm 
touch  of  earth  would  have  loosened  and  set  free 
remained  within  its  husk  as  a  dead  thing,  without  voice 
or  hearing.  There  was  nothing  else  for  it  but  to  be 
ground  into  dust  by  the  passing  foot  or  to  be  picked 
up  by  the  foraging  birds. 

The  parable  was  at  once  a  prophecy  and  an  experi- 
ence. Forming  a  part  of  the  crowd  which  surrounded 
Jesus  was  an  outer  ring  of  hearers  who  came  but  to 
criticize  and  to  cavil.  They  had  no  desire  to  be 
taught — at  any  rate  by  such  a  teacher.  They  were 
themselves  the  "  knowing  ones,"  the  learned,  and  they 
looked  with  suspicion  and  ill-concealed  scorn  upon 
the  youthful  Nazarene.  Turning  upon  the  Speaker 
a  cold,  questioning  glance,  or  exchanging  signals  with 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST,  LUKE, 


one  another,  they  were  evidently  hostile  to  Jesus, 
listening,  it  is  true,  but  with  a  feline  alertness,  hoping 
to  entrap  the  sweet  Singer  in  His  speech.  Upon 
these,  and  such  as  these,  the  word  of  God,  even  when 
spoken  by  the  Divine  Son,  made  no  impression.  It 
was  a  speaking  to  the  rocks,  with  no  other  result  than 
the  awaking  of  a  few  echoes  of  mockery  and  banter. 

The  experience  is  still  true.  Among  those  who 
frequent  the  house  of  God  are  many  whose  worship  is 
a  cold,  conventional  thing.  Drawn  thither  by  custom, 
by  the  social  instinct,  or  by  the  love  of  change,  they 
pass  within  the  gates  of  the  Lord's  house,  ostensibly 
to  worship.  But  they  are  insincere,  indifferent ;  they 
bring  their  body,  and  deposit  it  in  the  accustomed  pew, 
but  they  might  as  well  have  put  there  a  bag  of  ashes 
or  an  automaton  of  brass.  Their  mind  is  not  here, 
and  the  cold,  stolid  features,  unlighted  by  any  passing 
gleam,  tell  too  surely  of  a  vacancy  or  vagrancy  of 
thought.  And  even  while  the  lips  are  throwing  ofif 
mechanically  Jubilates  and  Te  Deums  their  heart  is 
*'far  from  Me,"  chasing  some  phantom  '^will  o'  the 
wisp,"  or  dreaming  their  dreams  of  pleasure,  gain,  and 
ease.  The  worship  of  God  they  themselves  would 
call  it,  but  God  does  not  recognize  it.  He  calls  their 
prayers  a  weariness,  their  incense  an  abomination. 
Theirs  is  but  a  worship  of  Self,  as,  setting  up  their 
image  of  clay,  they  summon  earth's  musicians  to  play 
their  sweet  airs  about  it.  God,  with  them,  is  set  back, 
ignored,  proscribed.  The  personal  "  I "  is  writ  so 
large,  and  is  so  all-pervasive,  that  there  is  no  room 
for  the  I  AM.  Living  for  earth,  all  the  fibres  of  their 
being  growing  downwards  towards  it,  heaven  is  not 
even  a  cloud  drifting  across  their  distant  vision ;  it  is 
an  empty  space,  a  vacancy.     To  the  voices  of  earth 


riiL  1-18.]       THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER.  S39 

their  ears  are  keenly  sensitive;  its  very  v^^hispers  thrill 
them  with  new  excitements,  but  to  the  voices  of 
Heaven  they  are  deaf;  the  still,  small  voice  is  all 
unheard,  and  even  the  thunders  of  God  are  so  muffled 
as  to  be  unrecognized  and  scarcely  audible.  And  so 
the  word  of  God  falls  upon  their  ears  in  vain.  It  drops 
upon  a  soil  that  is  impervious  and  antipathetic,  a 
heart  which  knows  no  penitence,  and  a  life  whose 
fancied  goodness  has  no  room  for  mercy,  or  which  finds 
such  complete  satisfaction  in  the  gains  of  unrighteous- 
ness or  the  pleasures  of  sin  that  it  is  purposely  and 
persistently  deaf  to  all  higher,  holier  voices.  Ulysses 
filled  his  ears  with  wax,  lest  he  should  yield  himself 
up  to  the  enchantments  of  the  sirens.  The  fable  is 
true,  even  when  read  in  reversed  lines ;  for  when 
Virtue,  Purity,  and  Faith  invite  men  to  their  resting- 
place,  calling  them  to  the  Islands  of  the  Blessed,  and  to 
the  Paradise  of  God,  they  charm  in  vain.  Deafening 
their  ears,  and  not  deigning  to  give  a  passing  thought 
to  the  higher  call,  men  drift  past  the  heaven  which 
might  have  been  theirs,  until  these  holier  voices  are 
silenced  by  the  awful  distance. 

That  the  word  of  God  is  inoperative  here  is  through 
no  fault,  either  of  the  seed  or  of  the  sower.  That 
word  is  still  "  quick  and  powerful,"  but  it  is  sterile, 
because  it  finds  nothing  on  which  it  may  grow.  It  is 
not  "  understood,"  as  Jesus  Himself  explains.  It  falls 
upon  the  outward  ear  alone,  and  there  only  as  unmean- 
ing sound,  like  the  accents  of  some  unknown  tongue. 
And  so  the  wicked  one  easily  takes  away  the  word  from 
their  heart ;  for,  as  the  preposition  itself  implies,  that 
word  had  not  fallen  into  the  heart ;  it  was  lying  o»  it  in  a 
superficial  way,  hke  the  seed  cast  upon  the  trampled  path. 

Is  there,  then,  no  hope  for  these  way-side  hearers  ? 


lyi  THE   GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE, 

and  sparing  our  strength  and  toil,  shall  we  leave  them 
for  soils  more  promising  ?  By  no  means.  The  fallow 
ground  may  be  broken  up ;  the  ploughshare  can  loosen 
the  hardened,  unproductive  earth.  Pulverized  by  the 
teeth  of  the  harrow  or  the  teeth  of  the  frost,  the  barren 
track  itself  disappears ;  it  passes  up  into  the  advanced 
classes,  giving  back  the  seed  with  which  it  is  now 
entrusted,  with  a  thirty,  sixty,  or  a  hundredfold  increase. 
And  this  is  true  in  the  higher  husbandry,  in  which 
we  are  permitted  to  be  "  God's  fellow-workers."  The 
heart  which  to-day  is  indifferent  or  repellent,  to- 
morrow, chastened  by  sickness  or  torn  by  the  plough- 
share of  some  keen  grief,  may  hail  with  eagerness  the 
message  it  rejected  and  even  scorned  before.  Amid 
the  penury  and  shame  of  the  far  country,  the  father's 
house,  from  which  he  had  wantonly  turned,  now  comes 
to  the  prodigal  like  a  sweet  dream,  and  even  its  bread 
has  all  the  aroma  and  sweetness  of  ambrosial  food. 
No  matter  how  disappointing  the  soil,  we  are  to  do 
our  duty,  which  is  to  "  sow  beside  all  waters ; "  nor 
should  any  calculations  of  imaginary  productiveness 
make  us  slack  our  hand  or  cast  away  our  hope.  When 
the  Spirit  is  poured  out  from  on  high,  even  "  the 
wilderness  becomes  as  a  fruitful  field,"  and  death  itself 
becomes  instinct  with  life. 

"  And  other  fell  on  the  rock ;  and  as  soon  as  it  grew 
it  withered  away,  because  it  had  no  moisture."  Here 
is  a  second  quality  of  soil.  It  is  not,  however,  a  soil 
that  is  weakened  by  an  intermixture  of  gravel  or  of 
stones,  but  rather  a  soil  that  is  thinly  spread  upon  the 
rock.  It  is  good  soil  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  it  is  shallow. 
It  receives  the  seed  gladly,  as  if  that  were  its  one 
mission,  as  indeed  it  is;  it  gives  the  seed  a  hiding- 
place,  throwing  over  it  a  mantle  of  earth,  so  that  the 


Wii.  1-18.]       THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER,  231 

birds  shall  not  devour  it.  It  lays  its  warm  touch  upon 
the  enveloping  husk,  as  the  Master  once  laid  His 
finger  upon  the  bier,  and  to  the  imprisoned  life  which 
was  within  it  said,  "  Arise  and  multiply.  Pass  up 
into  the  sunlight,  and  give  God's  children  bread."  And 
the  seed  responds,  obeys.  The  emerging  life  throws 
out  its  two  wings — one  downwards,  as  its  roots  clasp 
the  soil ;  one  upwards,  as  the  blade,  pushing  the  clods 
aside,  makes  for  the  light  and  the  heavens  that  are 
above  it.  *' Surely,"  we  should  say,  if  we  read  the 
future  from  the  present  merely,  "  the  hundredfold  is 
here.  Pull  down  your  barns  and  build  greater,  for 
never  was  seed  received  more  kindly,  never  were  the  be- 
ginnings of  life  more  auspicious,  and  never  was  promise 
so  great."  Ah  that  the  promise  should  so  soon  be  a 
disappointment,  and  the  forecast  be  so  soon  belied  I  The 
soil  has  no  depth.  It  is  simply  a  thin  covering  spread 
over  the  rock.  It  offers  no  room  for  growth.  The 
life  it  nourishes  can  be  nothing  more  than  an  ephemeral 
life,  Vv  hich  owns  but  a  to-day,  whose  "  to-morrow  "  will 
be  in  the  oven  of  a  burning  heat.  The  growth  is  entirely 
superficial,  for  its  roots  come  directly  to  the  hard, 
impenetrable  rock,  which,  yielding  no  support,  but  cut- 
ting off  all  supplies  from  the  unseen  reservoirs  beneath, 
turns  back  the  incipient  life  all  starved  and  shrunken. 
The  result  is  a  sudden  withering  and  decay.  A  found- 
ling, left,  not  by  some  iron  gate  which  the  touch  of 
mercy  might  open,  but  by  a  dead  wall  of  cold,  unrespon- 
sive stone,  the  plant  throws  up  its  arms  into  the  air, 
in  its  vain  struggle  for  life,  and  then  wilts  and  droops, 
lying  at  last,  a  dead  and  shrivelled  thing,  on  the  dry 
bosom  of  the  earth  which  had  given  it  its  untimely  birth. 
Such,  says  Jesus,  are  many  who  hear  the  word. 
Unlike  those  by  the  way-side,  these  do  not  reject  it 


t3t  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

They  listen,  bending  toward  that  word  with  attentive 
cars  and  eager  hearts.  Nay,  they  receive  it  with  joy; 
it  strikes  upon  their  soul  with  the  music  of  a  new 
evangel.  But  the  work  is  not  thorough ;  it  is  super- 
ficial, external.  They  "  have  no  root "  in  a  deep  and 
settled  conviction,  only  a  green  blade  of  profession 
and  of  mock  promise,  and  when  the  testing-time  comes, 
as  it  comes  to  all,  *'  the  time  of  temptation,"  they  fall 
away,  or  they  "  stand  ofif,"  as  the  verb  might  be  literally 
rendered. 

In  this  second  class  we  must  place  a  large  proportion 
of  those  who  heard  and  who  followed  Jesus.  There 
was  something  attractive  about  His  manner  and  about 
His  message.  Again  and  again  we  read  how  they 
"pressed  upon  Him  "  to  hear  His  words,  the  multitude 
hanging  on  His  lips  as  the  bees  will  cluster  upon  a 
honeyed  leaf.  Thousands  upon  thousands  thus  came 
within  the  spell  of  His  voice,  now  wondering  at  His 
gracious  words,  and  now  stunned  with  astonishment, 
as  they  marked  the  authority  with  which  He  spoke, 
the  compressed  thunder  that  was  in  His  tones.  But 
in  how  many  cases  are  we  forced  to  admit  the  interest 
to  be  but  momentary  1  It  was  with  many — shall  we 
say  with  most  ? — merely  a  passing  excitement,  the 
effervescence  of  personal  contact.  The  words  of  Jesus 
came  "  as  a  very  lovely  song  of  one  that  hath  a  pleasant 
voice,"  and  for  the  moment  the  hearts  of  the  multitudes 
were  set  vibrating  in  responsive  harmonies.  But  the 
music  ceased  when  the  Singer  was  absent.  The  impres- 
sions were  not  permanent,  and  even  the  emotions 
had  soon  passed  away,  almost  from  memory.  St.  John 
speaks  of  one  sifting  in  Galilee  when  "many  of  His 
disciples  went  back,  and  walked  no  more  with  Him " 
(vi.  66)f  showing   that  with  them  at  least  it  was  an 


riii.  i-i8.]       THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER.  933 

attach-ment  rather  than  an  attachment  that  bound  them 
to  Himself.  The  bond  of  union  was  the  hope  of  some 
personal  gain,  rather  than  the  bond  of  a  pure  and  deep 
affection.  And  so  directly  He  speaks  of  His  approach- 
ing death,  of  His  "  flesh  and  blood "  which  He  shall 
give  them  to  eat  and  to  drink,  like  an  icy  breath  from 
the  north,  those  words  chill  their  devotion,  turning  their 
zeal  and  ardour  into  a  cold  indifference,  if  not  into  an 
open  hostility.  And  this  same  winnowing  of  Galilee 
is  repeated  in  Judaea.  We  read  of  multitudes  who 
escorted  Jesus  down  the  Mount  of  Olives,  strewing  His 
path  with  garments,  giving  Him  a  royal  welcome  to  the 
"city  of  the  Great  King."  But  how  soon  a  change 
"  came  o'er  the  spirit  of  their  dream "  I  how  soon 
the  hosannahs  died  away  I  As  a  hawk  in  the  sky  will 
still  in  a  moment  the  warbling  of  the  birds,  so  the 
uplifted  cross  threw  its  cold  shadow  upon  their  hearts, 
drowning  the  brief  hosannahs  in  a  strange  silence. 
The  cross  was  the  fan  in  the  Master's  hand,  with 
which  He  "  throughly  purged  His  floor,"  separating  the 
true  from  the  false.  It  blew  away  into  the  deep  Valley 
of  Oblivion  the  chaflf,  the  dead  superficialities,  the  barren 
yawns,  leaving  as  the  residuum  of  the  sifted  multitudes 
a  mere  handful  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  names. 

These  pro  tern,  believers  are  indigenous  to  every  soil. 
There  never  is  a  great  movement  afloat — philanthropic, 
political  or  spiritual — but  numberless  smaller  craft  are 
lifted  up  on  its  swell.  For  a  moment  they  seem  instinct 
with  life,  but  having  no  propelling  power  in  themselves, 
they  drop  behind,  soon  to  be  embedded  in  the  mire. 
And  especially  is  this  true  in  the  region  of  spiritual 
dynamics.  In  all  so-called  "  revivals  "  of  religion,  when 
the  Church  rejoices  in  a  deepened  and  quickened  life, 
when  a  cooling  zeal  has  been  rewarmed  at  the  heavenly 


234  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

fires,  and  converts  are  multiplied,  in  the  accessions 
which  follow  almost  invariably  will  be  found  a  propor- 
tion of  what  we  may  call  "  casuals."  We  cannot  say 
they  are  counterfeits,  for  the  work,  as  far  as  it  goes, 
seems  real,  and  the  change,  both  in  their  thought  and 
life,  is  clearly  marked.  But  they  are  unstable  souls, 
prone  to  drifting,  their  direction  given  in  the  main  by 
the  set  of  the  current  in  which  they  happen  to  be.  And 
so  when  they  reach  the  point — which  all  must  reach 
sooner  or  later — where  two  seas  meet,  the  cross  current 
of  enticement  and  temptation  bears  hard  upon  them,  and 
they  make  shipwreck  of  faith.  Others,  again,  are  led 
by  impulse.  Religion  with  them  is  mainly  a  matter  of 
feeling.  Overlooking  the  fact  that  the  emotions  are 
easily  stirred,  that  they  respond  to  the  passing  breath 
just  as  the  sea  ripples  to  the  breeze,  they  substitute 
emotion  for  conviction,  feeling  for  faith.  But  these  have 
no  foundation,  no  root,  no  independent  life,  and  when 
the  excitements  on  which  they  feed  are  withdrawn, 
when  the  emotion  subsides,  the  high  tide  of  fervour 
falling  back  to  its  mean  sea-level,  they  lose  heart  and 
hope.  They  are  even  ready  to  pity  themselves  as  the 
objects  of  an  illusion.  But  the  illusion  was  one  of  their 
own  making.  They  set  the  pleasant  before  the  right, 
delight  before  duty,  comfort  before  Christ,  and  instead 
of  finding  their  heaven  in  doing  the  will  of  God,  no 
matter  what  the  emotions,  they  sought  their  heaven  in 
their  own  personal  happiness,  and  so  they  missed  both. 
*'  They  endure  for  a  while."  And  of  how  many  are 
these  words  true  1  Verily  we  must  not  count  our  fruits 
from  the  blossoms  of  spring,  nor  must  we  reckon  our 
harvest  in  that  easy,  hopeful  way  of  multiplying  each 
seed,  or  even  each  blade,  by  the  hundredfold,  for  the 
blade  may  be  only  a  short-lived  blade  and  nothing  more. 


TUi.  1-Ui.J       THE  FARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER,  835 

"  And  Other  fell  amidst  the  thorns ;  and  the  thorns 
grew  with  il>  and  choked  it."  Here  is  a  third  quality 
of  soil  in  the  ascending  series.  In  the  first,  the  trampled 
path,  life  was  not  possible ;  the  seed  could  find  not  the 
least  response.  In  the  second  there  was  life.  The 
thinly  sprinkled  soil  gave  the  seed  a  home,  a  rooting ; 
but  lacking  depth  of  earth  and  the  necessary  moisture, 
the  life  was  precarious,  ephemeral.  It  died  away  in  the 
blade,  and  never  reached  its  fruitage.  Now,  however, 
we  have  a  deeper,  richer  soil,  with  an  abundance  of 
vitality,  one  capable  of  sustaining  an  exuberant  life. 
But  it  is  not  clean ;  it  is  already  thickly  sown  with 
thorns,  and  the  two  growths  running  up  side  by  side, 
the  hardier  gets  the  mastery.  And  though  the  corn- 
life  struggles  up  into  the  ear,  bearing  a  sort  of  fruit,  it 
is  a  grain  that  is  dwarfed  and  shrivelled,  a  mere  husk 
and  shell,  which  no  leaven  can  transmute  into  bread. 
It  brings  forth  fruit,  as  the  exposition  of  the  parable 
indicates,  but  it  has  not  strength  to  complete  its  task ; 
it  does  not  ripen  it,  bringing  the  fruit  "to  perfection." 

Such,  says  Jesus,  is  another  and  a  large  class  of 
hearers.  They  are  naturally  capable  of  doing  great 
things.  Possessing  strong  wills,  and  a  large  amount 
of  energy,  they  are  just  the  lives  to  be  fruitful,  impres- 
sing themselves  upon  others,  and  so  throwing  their 
manifold  influence  down  into  the  future.  But  they  do 
not,  and  for  the  simple  reason  that  they  do  not  give  to 
the  word  a  whole  heart.  Their  attentions  and  energies 
are  divided.  Instead  of  seeking  "  first  the  kingdom  of 
God,"  making  that  the  supreme  quest  of  life,  it  is  with 
them  but  one  of  many  things  to  be  desired  and  sought. 
Chief  among  the  hindrances  to  a  perfected  growth  and 
fruitfulness,  Jesus  mentions  three;  namely,  cares,  riches, 
and  pleasures.     By  the  "  cares  of  life  "  we  must  under- 


»36  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

Stand — interpreting  the  word  by  its  related  word  ki 
Matthew  vi.  34 — the  anxieties  of  life.  It  is  the  anxious 
thought,  mainly  about  the  "  to-morrow,"  which  presses 
upon  the  heart  as  a  sore  and  constant  burden.  It  is 
the  fearfulness  and  unrest  of  soul  which  gloom  the 
sp?rit  and  shroud  the  life,  making  the  Divine  peace 
itself  a  fret  and  worry.  And  how  many  Christians  find 
this  to  be  the  normal  experience  1  They  love  God,  they 
seek  to  serve  Him  ;  but  they  are  weighted  and  weary. 
Instead  of  having  the  hopeful,  buoyant  spirit  which 
rises  to  the  crest  of  passing  waves,  it  is  a  heart  de- 
pressed and  sad,  living  in  the  deeps.  And  so  the 
brightness  of  their  Hfe  is  dimmed  ;  they  walk  not  "  in 
the  light,  as  He  is  in  the  light,"  but  beneath  a  sky  fre- 
quently overcast,  their  days  bringing  only  *'a  little 
glooming  light,  much  like  a  shade."  And  so  their 
spiritual  Hfe  is  stunted,  their  usefulness  impaired.  In- 
stead of  having  a  heart  "  at  leisure  from  itself,"  they 
are  engrossed  with  their  own  unsatisfactory  experiences. 
Instead  of  looking  upwards  to  the  heavens  which  are 
their  own,  or  outwards  upon  the  crying  needs  of  earth, 
they  look  inward  with  frequent  and  morbid  introspec- 
tion ;  and  instead  of  lending  a  hand  to  the  fallen,  that 
a  brotherly  touch  might  help  them  to  rise,  their  hands 
find  full  employment  in  steadying  the  world,  or  worlds, 
of  care  which.  Atlas-like,  they  are  doomed  to  carry. 
Self-doomed,  we  should  have  said  ;  for  the  Divine  Voice 
invites  us  to  cast  "  all  our  anxiety  upon  Him,"  assuring 
us  that  He  careth  for  us,  an  assurance  and  an  invitation 
which  make  our  anxieties,  the  fret  and  fever  of  life, 
altogether  superfluous. 

Exactly  the  same  effect  of  making  the  spiritual  life 
incomplete,  and  so  unproductive,  is  caused  by  riches 
and  pleasures,  or,  as  we  might  render  the  expression, 


▼iiii-i8.]       THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER.  zyi 

by  the  pursuit  after  riches  or  after  pleasure.  Not  that 
the  Scriptures  condemn  wealth  in  itself.  It  is^perse^oi 
SL  neutral  character,  whether  a  blessing  or  a  bane  de- 
pends on  how  it  is  earned  and  how  it  is  held.  Nor  do 
the  Scriptures  condemn  legitimate  modes  and  measures 
of  business ;  they  condemn  waste  and  indolence,  but 
they  commend  industry,  diligence,  thrift.  But  the  evil 
is  in  making  wealth  the  chief  aim  of  life.  It  is  decep- 
tive, promising  satisfaction  which  it  never  gives,  creating 
a  thirst  which  it  is  powerless  to  slake,  until  the  desire, 
ever  more  greedy  and  clamorous,  grows  into  a  "  love 
of  money,"  a  pure  worship  of  Mammon.  Religion  and 
business  may  well  go  together,  for  God  has  joined  them 
in  one.  Each  keeping  its  proper  place,  religion  first 
and  most,  and  business  a  far-off  second,  together  they 
are  the  centrifugal  and  centripetal  forces  that  keep  the 
life  revolving  steadily  around  its  Divine  centre.  But 
let  the  positions  be  reversed  ;  let  business  be  the  first, 
chief  thought,  let  religion  sink  down  to  some  second 
or  third  place,  and  the  life  swings  farther  and  farther 
from  its  pivotal  centre,  into  wildernesses  of  dearth 
and  cold.  To  give  due  thought  to  earthly  things 
is  right ;  nay,  we  may  give  all  diligence  to  make  our 
earthly,  as  well  as  our  heavenly  calling  sure;  but  when 
business  gets  imperious  in  its  demands,  swallowing  up 
all  our  thought  and  energy,  leaving  no  time  for  spiritual 
exercises  or  for  personal  service  for  Christ,  then  the 
religious  life  declines.  Crowded  back  into  the  chance 
corners,  with  nothing  left  it  but  the  brief  interstices  of 
a  busy  life,  religion  can  do  little  more  than  maintain 
a  profession ;  its  helpfulness  is,  in  the  main,  remitted 
to  the  past,  and  its  fruitfulness  is  postponed  to  that 
uncertain  nowhere  of  the  Greek  calends. 

The  same  is  true  with  regard  to  the  pleasures  of  life. 


338  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

The  word  "  pleasure  **  is  a  somewhat  infrequent  word 
in  the  New  Testament,  and  generally  it  is  used  of  the 
lower,  sensual  pleasures.  We  are  not  obliged,  how- 
ever, to  give  the  word  its  lowest  meaning ;  indeed,  the 
analogy  of  the  parable  would  scarcely  allow  such  an 
interpretation.  Sinful  pleasure  would  not  check  growth  ; 
it  would  simply  prevent  it,  making  a  spiritual  life 
impossible.  We  must  therefore  interpret  the  "plea- 
sures "  which  retard  the  upward  growth,  and  render  it 
infertile,  as  the  lawful  pleasures  of  life,  such  as  the 
delights  of  the  eye  and  ear,  the  gratification  of  the 
tastes,  the  enjoyments  of  domestic  or  social  life.  Per- 
fectly innocent  and  pure  in  themselves,  purposely 
designed  for  our  enjoyment,  as  St.  Paul  plainly  inti- 
mates (i  Tim.  vi.  17),  they  are  pleasures  which  we  have 
no  right  to  treat  with  the  stoic's  disdain,  nor  with  the 
ascetic's  aversion.  But  the  snare  is  in  permitting  these 
desires  to  step  out  of  their  proper  place,  in  allowing 
them  to  have  a  controlling  influence.  As  servants  their 
ministry  is  helpful  and  benign ;  but  if  we  make  them 
"  lords,"  then,  Hke  *'  the  ill  uses  of  a  Ufe,"  we  find  it 
difficult  to  put  them  down ;  they  rather  put  us  down, 
making  us  their  thrall.  To  please  God  should  be  the 
one  absorbing  pursuit  and  passion  of  life,  and  wholly 
bent  on  this,  if  other  pure  enjoyments  come  in  our  way 
we  may  receive  them  thankfully.  But  if  we  make  our 
personal  gratification  the  aim,  if  our  thoughts  and  plans 
are  set  on  this  rather  than  upon  the  pleasing  of  God, 
then  our  spiritual  life  is  enfeebled  and  stifled,  and  the 
fruit  we  should  bear  shrivels  up  into  chaflf.  Then  we 
become  selfish  and  self-willed,  and  the  pure  pleasures 
of  life,  which  like  Vestal  Virgins  minister  within  the 
temple  of  God,  leading  us  ever  to  Him,  turn  round 
to  bum  perpetual   incense   before   our  enlarged   and 


viil.i-l8.]       THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER.  239 

exalted  Self.  He  who  stops  to  confer  with  flesh 
and  blood,  who  is  ever  consulting  his  own  likes  and 
leanings,  can  never  be  an  apostle  to  others. 

"And  other  fell  into  the  good  ground,  and  grew, 
and  brought  forth  fruit  a  hundredfold."  Here  is  the 
highest  quality  of  soil.  Not  hard,  like  the  trampled 
path,  nor  shallow,  like  the  covering  of  the  rock,  not 
preoccupied  with  the  roots  of  other  growths,  this  is 
mellow,  deep,  clean,  and  rich.  The  seed  falls,  not  "  by/' 
or  "in,"  or  "among,"  but  "into"  it,  while  seed  and 
soil  together  grow  up  in  an  affluence  of  life,  and  passing 
through  the  blade-age  and  the  earing,  it  ripens  into  a 
harvest  of  a  hundredfold.  Such,  says  Jesus,  are  they 
who,  in  an  honest  and  good  heart,  having  heard  the 
word,  hold  it  fast,  and  bring  forth  fruit  with  patience. 
Here,  then,  we  reach  the  germ  of  the  parable,  the  secret 
of  fruitfulness.  The  one  difference  between  the  saint 
and  the  sinner,  between  the  hundredfold  hearer  and 
him  whose  life  is  spent  in  throwing  out  promises  ot 
a  harvest  which  never  ripens,  is  their  different  attitude 
towards  the  word  of  God.  In  the  one  case  that  word 
is  rejected  altogether,  or  it  is  a  concept  of  the  mind 
alone,  an  aurora  of  the  Arctic  night,  distant  and  cold, 
which  some  mistake  for  the  dawn  of  a  new  day.  In 
the  other  the  word  passes  through  the  mind  into  the 
deepest  heart ;  it  conquers  and  rules  the  whole  being ; 
it  becomes  a  part  of  one's  very  self,  the  soul  of  the  soul. 
"Thy  word  have  I  hid  in  my  heart,"  said  the  Psalmist, 
and  he  who  puts  the  Divine  word  there,  back  of  all 
earthly  and  selfish  voices,  letting  that  Divine  Voice  fill 
up  that  most  sacred  temple  of  the  heart,  will  make  his 
outer  life  both  beautiful  and  fruitful.  He  will  walk  the 
earth  as  one  of  God's  seers,  ever  beholding  Him  who 
is  invisible,  speaking  by  life  or  lips  in  heavenly  tones, 


140  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

and  by  his  own  steadfast,  upward  gaze  lifting  th« 
hearts  and  thoughts  of  men  *'  above  the  world's  uncer- 
tain haze."  Such  is  the  Divine  law  of  life ;  the  measure 
of  our  faith  is  the  measure  of  our  fruitfulness.  If  wa 
but  half  believe  in  the  promises  of  God  or  in  the 
eternal  realities,  then  the  sinews  of  our  soul  are 
houghed,  and  there  comes  over  us  the  sad  paralysis 
of  doubt.  How  can  we  bring  forth  fruit  except  we 
abide  in  Him  ?  and  how  can  we  abide  in  Him  but  by 
letting  His  words  abide  in  us  ?  But  having  His  words 
abiding  in  us,  then  His  peace.  His  joy,  His  life  are  ours, 
and  we,  who  without  Him  are  poor,  dead  things,  now 
become  strong  in  His  infinite  strength,  and  fruitful 
with  a  Divine  fruitfulness;  and  to  our  lives,  which 
were  all  barren  and  dead,  will  men  come  for  the  words 
that  *'  help  and  heal,"  while  the  Master  Himself  gathers 
from  them  His  thirty,  sixty,  or  hundredfold,  the  fruitage 
of  a  whole-hearted,  patient  faith. 

Let  us  take  heed,  therefore,  how  we  hear,  for  on  the 
character  of  the  hearing  depends  the  character  of  the 
life.  Nor  is  the  truth  given  us  for  ourselves  alone ;  it 
is  given  that  it  may  become  incarnate  in  us,  so  that 
others  may  see  and  feel  the  truth  that  is  in  us,  even  as 
men  cannot  help  seeing  the  light  which  is  manifest. 

And  so  the  parable  closes  with  the  account  of  the 
visit  of  His  mother  and  brethren,  who  came,  as  St. 
Matthew  informs  us,  "  to  take  Him  home ; "  and  when 
the  message  was  passed  on  to  Him  that  His  mother 
and  His  brethren  wished  to  see  Him,  this  was  His 
remarkable  answer,  claiming  relationship  with  all 
whose  hearts  vibrate  to  the  same  "  word : "  *'  My 
mother  and  My  brethren  are  those  which  hear  the 
word  of  God,  and  do  it."  It  is  the  secret  of  the 
Divine  life  on  earth ;  they  hear,  and  they  oa 


CHAPTER  XV. 
THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD, 

IN  considering  the  words  of  Jesus,  if  we  may  not  be 
able  to  measure  their  depth  or  to  scale  their  height, 
we  can  with  absolute  certainty  discover  their  drift,  and 
see  in  what  direction  they  move,  and  we  shall  find 
that  their  orbit  is  an  ellipse.  Moving  around  the  two 
centres,  sin  and  salvation,  they  describe  what  is  not  a 
geometric  figure,  but  a  glorious  reality,  "  the  kingdom 
of  God."  It  is  not  unlikely  that  the  expression  was  one 
of  the  current  phrases  of  the  times,  a  golden  casket, 
holding  within  it  the  dream  of  a  restored  Hebraism  • 
for  we  find,  without  any  collusion  or  rehearsal  of  parts, 
the  Baptist  making  use  of  the  identical  words  in  his 
inaugural  address,  while  it  is  certain  the  disciples 
themselves  so  misunderstood  the  thought  of  their 
Master  as  to  refer  His  ^'kingdom"  to  that  narrow 
realm  of  Hebrew  sympathies  and  hopes.  Nor  did  they 
see  their  error  until,  in  the  light  of  Pentecostal  flames, 
their  own  dream  disappeared,  and  the  new  kingdom, 
opening  out  like  a  receding  sky,  embraced  a  world 
within  its  folds.  That  Jesus  adopted  the  phrase,  liable 
to  misconstruction  as  it  was,  and  that  He  used  it  so 
repeatedly,  making  it  the  centre  of  so  many  parables 
and  discourses,  shows  how  completely  the  kingdom 
of  God  possessed  both  His  mind  and  heart     Indeed, 

i6 


143  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

SO  accustomed  were  His  thoughts  and  words  to  flow 
in  this  direction  that  even  the  Valley  of  Death,  "  lying 
darkly  between  "  His  two  lives,  could  not  alter  their 
course,  or  turn  His  thoughts  out  of  their  familiar 
channel ;  and  as  we  find  the  Christ  back  of  the  cross 
and  tomb,  amid  the  resurrection  glories,  we  hear  Him 
speaking  still  of  "  the  things  pertaining  to  the  kingdom 
of  God." 

It  will  be  observed  that  Jesus  uses  the  two  expres- 
sions "  the  kingdom  of  God  "  and  "  the  kingdom  of 
heaven"  interchangeably.  But  in  what  sense  is  it 
the  "  kingdom  of  heaven "  ?  Does  it  mean  that  the 
celestial  realm  will  so  far  extend  its  bounds  as  to 
embrace  our  outlying  and  low-lying  world  ?  Not  exactly* 
for  the  conditions  of  the  two  realms  are  so  diverse. 
The  one  is  the  perfected,  the  visible  kingdom,  where 
the  throne  is  set,  and  the  King  Himself  is  manifest, 
its  citizens,  angels,  heavenly  intelligences,  and  saints 
now  freed  from  the  cumbering  clay  of  mortality,  and 
for  ever  safe  from  the  solicitations  of  evil.  This  New 
Jerusalem  does  not  come  down  to  earth,  except  in  the 
vision  of  the  seer,  as  it  were  in  a  shadow.  And  yet 
the  two  kingdoms  are  in  close  correspondence,  after  all ; 
for  what  is  the  kingdom  of  God  in  heaven  but  His 
eternal  rule  over  the  spirits  of  the  redeemed  and  of 
the  unredeemed  ?  what  are  the  harmonies  of  heaven 
but  the  harmonies  of  surrendered  wills,  as,  without 
any  hesitation  or  discord,  they  strike  in  with  the  Divine 
Will  in  absolute  precision  ?  To  this  extent,  then,  at 
least,  heaven  may  project  itself  upon  earth  ;  the  spirits 
of  men  not  yet  made  perfect  may  be  in  subjection  to 
the  Supreme  Spirit ;  the  separate  wills  of  a  redeemed 
humanity,  striking  in  with  the  Divine  Will,  may  swell 
the  heavenly  harmonies  with  their  earthly  music. 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD.  a43 

And  so  Jesus  speaks  of  this  kingdom  as  being 
"  within  you."  As  if  He  said,  *'  You  are  looking  in 
the  wrong  direction.  You  expect  the  kingdom  of  God 
to  be  set  up  around  you,  with  its  visible  symbols  of  flags 
and  coins,  on  which  is  the  image  of  some  new  Caesar. 
You  are  mistaken.  The  kingdom,  like  its  King,  is 
unseen ;  it  seeks,  not  countries,  but  consciences ;  its 
realm  is  in  the  heart,  in  the  great  interior  of  the  soul." 
And  is  not  this  the  reason  why  it  is  called,  with  such 
emphatic  repetition,  **  the  kingdom,"  as  if  it  were,  if 
not  the  only,  at  any  rate  the  highest  kingdom  of  God 
on  earth?  We  speak  of  a  kingdom  of  Nature,  and 
who  will  know  its  secrets  as  He  who  was  both  Nature's 
child  and  Nature's  Lord?  And  how  far-reaching  a 
realm  is  that  I  from  the  motes  that  swim  in  the  air  to 
the  most  distant  stars,  which  themselves  are  but  the 
gateway  to  the  unseen  Beyond  I  What  forces  are 
here,  forces  of  chemical  affinities  and  repulsions,  of 
gravitation  and  of  life  I  What  successions  and  trans- 
formations can  Nature  showl  what  infinite  varieties 
of  substance,  form,  and  colour  I  what  a  realm  of 
harmony  and  peace,  with  no  irruptions  of  discordant 
elements  I  Surely  one  would  think,  if  God  has  a 
kingdom  upon  earth,  this  kingdom  of  Nature  is  it. 
But  no ;  Jesus  does  not  often  refer  to  that,  except  as 
He  makes  Nature  speak  in  His  parables,  or  as  He 
uses  the  sparrows,  the  grass,  and  the  lilies  as  so  many 
lenses  through  which  our  weak  human  vision  may  see 
God.  The  kingdom  of  God  on  earth  is  as  much 
higher  than  the  kingdom  of  Nature  as  spirit  is  above 
matter,  as  love  is  more  and  greater  than  power. 

We  said  just  now  how  completely  the  thought  of 
"  the  kingdom  "  possessed  the  mind  and  heart  of  Jesus. 
We  might  go  one  step  farther,  and  say  how  completely 


a44  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE, 

Jesus  identified  Himself  with  that  kingdom.  He  puts 
Himself  in  its  pivotal  centre,  with  all  possible  natural- 
ness, and  with  an  ease  that  assumption  cannot  feign 
He  gathers  up  its  royalties  and  draws  them  around 
His  own  Person.  He  speaks  of  it  as  "My  kingdom;" 
and  this,  not  alone  in  familiar  discourse  with  His 
disciples,  but  when  face  to  face  with  the  representative 
of  earth's  greatest  power.  Nor  is  the  personal  pronoun 
some  chance  word,  used  in  a  far-off,  accommodated 
sense ;  it  is  the  crucial  word  of  the  sentence,  under- 
scored and  emphasized  by  a  threefold  repetition ;  it  is 
the  word  He  will  not  strike  out,  nor  recall,  even  to 
save  Himself  from  the  cross.  He  never  speaks  of  the 
kingdom  but  even  His  enemies  acknowledge  the. 
'*  authority "  that  rings  in  His  tones,  the  authority 
of  conscious  power,  as  well  as  of  perfect  knowledge. 
When  His  ministry  is  drawing  to  a  close  He  says  to 
Peter,  "  I  will  give  unto  thee  the  keys  of  the  kingdom 
of  heaven ; "  which  language  may  be  understood  as 
the  official  designation  of  the  Apostle  Peter  to  a  position 
of  pre-eminence  in  the  Church,  as  its  first  leader.  But 
whatever  it  may  mean,  it  shows  that  the  keys  of  the 
kingdom  are  His ;  He  can  bestow  them  on  whom  He 
will.  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  not  a  realm  in  which 
authority  and  honours  move  upwards  from  below,  the 
blossoming  of  "  the  people's  will ; "  it  is  an  absolute 
monarchy,  an  autocracy,  and  Jesus  Himself  is  here 
King  supreme.  His  will  swaying  the  lesser  wills  of 
men,  and  rearranging  their  positions,  as  the  angel  had 
foretold:  **He  shall  reign  over  the  house  of  David 
for  ever,  and  of  His  kingdom  there  shall  be  no  end." 
Given  Him  of  the  Father  it  is  (xxii.  29  ;  i.  32),  but  the 
kingdom  is  His,  not  either  as  a  metaphor,  but  really, 
absolutely,  inalienably ;  nor  is  there  admittance  within 


THE  KINGDOM   OF  GOD.  345 

that  kingdom  but  by  Him  who  is  the  Way,  as  He  is 
the  Life.  We  enter  into  the  kingdom,  or  the  king- 
dom enters  into  us,  as  we  find,  and  then  crown  the 
King,  as  we  sanctify  in  our  hearts  "  Christ  as  Lord  " 
(i  Pet.  iii.  15). 

This  brings  us  to  the  question  of  citizenship,  the 
conditions  and  demands  of  the  kingdom ;  and  here  we 
see  how  far  this  new  dynasty  is  removed  from  the 
kingdoms  of  this  world.  They  deal  with  mankind  in 
groups;  they  look  at  birth,  not  character;  and  their 
bounds  are  well  defined  by  rivers,  mountains,  seas,  or 
by  accurately  surveyed  lines.  The  kingdom  of  heaven, 
on  the  other  hand,  dispenses  with  all  space-limits,  all 
physical  configurations,  and  regards  mankind  as  one 
group,  a  unity,  a  lapsed  but  a  redeemed  world.  But 
while  opening  its  gates  and  offering  its  privileges  to  all 
alike,  irrespective  of  class  or  circumstance,  it  is  most 
eclective  in  its  requirements,  and  most  rigid  in  the 
application  of  its  test,  its  one  test  of  character.  Indeed, 
the  laws  of  the  heavenly  kingdom  are  a  complete 
reversal  of  the  lines  of  worldly  policy.  Take,  for 
instance,  the  two  estimates  of  wealth,  and  see  how 
different  the  position  it  occupies  in  the  two  societies. 
The  world  makes  wealth  its  summum  bonum;  or  if  not 
exactly  in  itself  the  highest  good,  in  commercial  values 
it  is  equivalent  to  the  highest  good,  which  is  position. 
Gold  is  all-powerful,  the  goal  of  man's  vain  ambitions, 
the  panacea  of  earthly  ill.  Men  chase  it  in  hot,  feverish 
haste,  trampling  upon  each  other  in  the  mad  scramble, 
and  worshipping  it  in  a  blind  idolatry.  But  where  is 
wealth  in  the  new  kingdom  ?  The  world's  first  be- 
comes the  last.  It  has  no  purchasing-power  here ;  its 
golden  key  cannot  open  the  least  of  these  heavenly 
gate*.     Jesus  sets  it  back,  far  back,  in  His  estimate  of 


246  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

the  good.  He  speaks  of  it  as  if  it  were  an  encumbrance, 
a  dead  weight,  that  must  be  lifted,  and  that  handicaps 
the  heavenly  athlete.  *'  How  hardly,"  said  Jesus,  when 
the  rich  ruler  turned  away  "very  sorrowful,"  "shall 
they  that  have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  I " 
(xviii.  24) ;  and  then,  by  way  of  illustration,  He  shows 
us  the  picture  of  the  camel  passing  through  the  so- 
called  "needle's  eye"  of  an  Eastern  door.  He  does 
not  say  that  such  a  thing  is  impossible,  for  the  camel 
could  pass  through  the  "  needle's  eye,"  but  it  must  first 
kneel  down  and  be  stripped  of  all  its  baggage,  before  it 
can  pass  the  narrow  door,  within  the  larger,  but  now 
closed  gate.  Wealth  may  have  its  uses,  and  noble  uses 
too,  within  the  kingdom — for  it  is  somewhat  remark- 
able how  the  faith  of  the  two  rich  disciples  shone  out 
the  brightest,  when  the  faith  of  the  rest  suffered  a 
temporary  eclipse  from  the  passing  cross— but  he  who 
possesses  it  must  be  as  if  he  possessed  it  not.  He 
must  not  regard  it  as  his  own,  but  as  talents  given  him 
in  trust  by  his  Lord,  their  image  and  superscription 
being  that  of  the  Invisible  King. 

Again,  Jesus  sets  down  vacillation,  hesitancy,  as  a 
disqualification  for  citizenship  in  His  kingdom.  At 
the  close  of  His  Galilean  ministry  our  Evangelist  intro- 
duces us  to  a  group  of  embryo  disciples.  The  first  of 
the  three  says,  "  Lord,  I  will  follow  Thee  whithersoever 
Thou  goest"  (ix.  57).  Bold  words  they  were,  and 
doubtless  well  meant,  but  it  was  the  language  of  a 
passing  impulse,  rather  than  of  a  settled  conviction, 
it  was  the  coruscation  of  a  glowing,  ardent  tempera- 
ment. He  had  not  counted  the  cost.  The  large  word 
"  whithersoever  "  might,  indeed,  easily  be  spoken,  but  it 
held  within  it  a  Gethsemane  and  a  Calvary,  paths  of 
torrow,  shame,  and  death  he  was  not  prepared  to  face. 


THE  KINGDOM   OF  GOD.  247 

And  so  Jesus  neither  welcomed  nor  dismissed  him, 
but  opening  out  one  part  of  his  "whithersoever,"  He 
gave  it  back  to  him  in  the  words,  "The  foxes  have 
holes,  and  the  birds  of  the  heaven  have  nests ;  but  the 
Son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  His  head."  The 
second  responds  to  the  **  Follow  Me  "  of  Christ  with  the 
request  that  he  might  be  allowed  first  to  go  and  bury 
his  father.  It  was  a  most  natural  request,  but  parti- 
cipation in  these  funeral  rites  would  entail  a  ceremonial 
uncleanness  of  seven  days,  by  which  time  Jesus  would 
be  far  away.  Besides,  Jesus  must  teach  him,  and  the 
ages  after  him,  that  His  claims  were  paramount ;  that 
when  He  commands  obedience  must  be  instant  and 
absolute,  with  no  interventions,  no  postponement, 
Jesus  replies  to  him  in  that  enigmatical  way  of  His, 
"  Leave  the  dead  to  bury  their  own  dead :  but  go  thou 
and  publish  abroad  the  kingdom  of  God ; "  indicating 
that  this  supreme  crisis  of  his  life  is  virtually  a  passing 
from  death  to  life,  a  "  resurrection  from  earth  to  things 
above."  The  last  in  this  group  of  three  volunteers  his 
pledge,  "  I  will  follow  Thee,  Lord ;  but  first  suffer  me 
to  bid  farewell  to  them  that  are  at  my  house  "  (ix.  61) ; 
but  to  him  Jesus  replies,  mournfully  and  sorrowfully, 
"  No  man,  having  put  his  hand  to  the  plough,  and  look- 
ing back,  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God"  (ix.  62). 
Why  does  Jesus  treat  these  two  candidates  so  differ- 
ently ?  They  both  say,  "  I  will  follow  Thee,"  the  one 
in  word,  the  other  by  implication ;  they  both  request  a 
little  time  for  what  they  regard  a  filial  duty ;  why,  then, 
be  treated  so  differently,  the  one  thrust  forward  to  a 
still  higher  service,  commissioned  to  preach  the  king- 
dom, and  afterwards,  if  we  may  accept  the  tradition 
that  he  was  Philip  the  Evangelist,  passing  up  into  the 
diaconate ;  the  other,  unwelcomed  and  uncommissioned. 


248  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

but  disapproved  as  "  not  fit  for  the  kingdom  "  ?  Why 
there  should  be  this  wide  divergence  between  the  two 
lives  we  cannot  see,  either  from  their  manner  or  their 
words.  It  must  have  been  a  difference  in  the  moral 
attitude  of  the  two  men,  and  which  He  who  heard 
thoughts  and  read  motives  detected  at  once.  In  the 
case  of  the  former  there  was  the  fixed,  determined 
resolve,  which  the  bier  of  a  dead  father  might  hold 
back  a  little,  but  which  it  could  not  break  or  bend. 
But  Jesus  saw  in  the  other  a  double-minded  soul,  whose 
feet  and  heart  moved  in  diverse,  opposite  ways,  who 
gave,  not  his  whole,  but  a  very  partial,  self  to  his  work ; 
and  this  halting,  wavering  one  He  dismissed  with  the 
words  of  forecasted  doom,  "  Not  fit  for  the  kingdom 
of  God." 

It  is  a  hard  saying,  with  a  seeming  severity  about  it  ; 
but  is  it  not  a  truth  universal  and  eternal?  Arc  any 
kingdoms,  either  of  knowledge  or  power,  won  and  held 
by  the  irresolute  and  wavering?  Like  the  stricken 
men  of  Sodom,  they  weary  themselves  to  find  the  door 
of  the  kingdom ;  or  if  they  do  see  the  Beautiful  Gates 
of  a  better  life,  they  sit  with  the  lame  man,  outside,  or 
they  linger  on  the  steps,  hearing  the  music  indeed,  but 
hearing  it  from  afar.  It  is  a  truth  of  both  dispensations, 
written  in  all  the  books;  the  Reubens  who  are  "un- 
stable as  water "  can  never  excel ,  the  elder  born,  in 
the  accident  of  years,  they  may  be,  but  the  birthright 
passes  by  them,  to  be  inherited  and  enjoyed  by  others. 

But  if  the  gates  of  the  kingdom  are  irrevocably 
closed  against  the  half-hearted,  the  self-indulgent,  and 
the  proud,  there  is  a  sesame  to  which  they  open  gladly. 
**  Blessed  are  ye  poor,"  so  reads  the  first  and  great 
Beatitude  :  "  for  yours  is  the  kingdom  of  God  "  (vi.  20) ; 
and  beginning  with  this  present  realization,  Jesus  goes 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD,  249 

on  to  speak  of  the  strange  contrasts  and  inversions  the 
perfected  kingdom  will  show,  when  the  weepers  will 
laugh,  the  hungry  be  full,  and  those  who  are  despised 
and  persecuted  will  rejoice  in  their  exceeding  great 
reward.  But  who  are  the  "  poor  "  to  whom  the  gates 
of  the  kingdom  are  open  so  soon  and  so  wide  ?  At 
first  sight  it  would  appear  as  if  we  must  give  a  literal 
interpretation  to  the  word,  reading  it  in  a  worldly, 
temporal  sense  ;  but  this  is  not  necessary.  Jesus  was 
now  directly  addressing  His  disciples  (vi.  20),  though, 
doubtless.  His  words  were  intended  to  pass  beyond 
them,  to  those  ever-enlarging  circles  of  humanity  who 
in  the  after-years  should  press  forward  to  hear  Him. 
But  evidently  the  disciples  were  in  no  weeping  mood 
to-day  ;  they  would  be  elated  and  joyful  over  the  recent 
miracles.  Neither  should  we  call  them  "  poor,"  in  the 
worldly  sense  of  that  word,  for  most  of  them  had  been 
called  from  honourable  positions  in  society,  while  some 
had  even  "hired  servants"  to  wait  upon  and  assist 
them.  Indeed,  it  was  not  the  wont  of  Jesus  to  recognize 
the  class  distinctions  Society  was  so  fond  of  drawing 
and  defining.  He  appraised  men,  not  by  their  means, 
but  by  the  manhood  which  was  in  them ;  and  when  He 
found  a  nobility  of  soul — whether  in  the  higher  or  the 
lower  walks  of  life  it  made  no  difference — He  stepped 
forward  to  recognize  and  to  salute  it  We  must  there- 
fore give  to  these  words  of  Jesus,  as  to  so  many  others, 
the  deeper  meaning,  making  the  "  blessed "  of  this 
Beatitude,  who  are  now  welcomed  to  the  opened  gate 
of  the  kingdom,  the  "poor  in  spirit,"  as,  indeed, 
St.  Matthew  writes  it. 

What  this  spirit-poverty  is,  Jesus  Himself  explains, 
in  a  brief  bu*  wonderfully  realistic  parable.  He  draws 
for  us  the  picture  of  two  men  at  their  Temple  devotions. 


as©  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST,  LUKE. 

The  one,  a  Pharisee,  stands  erect,  with  head  uplifted, 
as  if  it  were  quite  on  a  level  with  the  heaven  he  was 
addressing,  and  with  supercilious  pride  he  counts  his 
beads  of  rounded  egotisms.  He  calls  it  a  worship  of 
God,  when  it  is  but  a  worship  of  self.  He  inflates  the 
great  "  I,"  and  then  plays  upon  it,  making  it  strike 
sharp  and  loud,  like  the  tom-tom  of  a  heathen  fetish. 
Such  is  the  man  who  fancies  that  he  is  rich  toward 
God,  that  he  has  need  of  nothing,  not  even  of  mercy, 
when  all  the  time  he  is  utterly  blind  and  miserably 
poor.  The  other  is  a  publican,  and  so  presumably 
rich.  But  how  different  his  posture  I  With  heart 
broken  and  contrite,  self  with  him  is  a  nothing,  a 
zero  ;  nay,  in  his  lowly  estimate  it  had  become  a  minus 
quantity,  less  than  nothing,  deserving  only  rebuke  and 
chastisement.  Disclaiming  any  good,  either  inherent 
or  acquired,  he  puts  the  deep  need  and  hunger  of  his 
soul  into  one  broken  cry,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a 
sinner  "  (xviii.  1 3).  Such  are  the  two  characters  Jesus 
portrays  as  standing  by  the  gate  of  the  kingdom,  the 
one  proud  in  spirit,  the  other  "  poor  in  spirit ; "  the 
one  throwing  upon  the  heavens  the  shadow  of  his 
magnified  self,  the  other  shrinking  up  into  the  pauper, 
the  nothing  that  he  was.  But  Jesus  tells  us  that  he 
was  "justified,"  accepted,  rather  than  the  other.  With 
nought  he  could  call  his  own,  save  his  deep  need  and 
his  great  sin,  he  finds  an  opened  gate  and  a  welcome 
within  the  kingdom ;  while  the  proud  in  spirit  is  sent 
empty  away,  or  carrying  back  only  the  tithed  mint  and 
anise,  and  all  the  vain  oblations  Heaven  could  not 
accept. 

"  Blessed  "  indeed  are  such  "  poor ; "  for  He  giveth 
grace  unto  the  lowly,  while  the  proud  He  knoweth  afar 
off.     The  humble,  the  meek,  these   shall  inherit  the 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD,  151 

earth,  ay,  and  the  heavens  too,  and  they  shall  know 
how  true  is  the  paradox,  having  nothing,  yet  possess- 
ing all  things.  The  fruit  of  the  tree  of  life  hangs  low, 
and  he  must  stoop  who  would  gather  it.  He  who 
would  enter  God's  kingdom  must  first  become  "as  a 
little  child,"  knowing  nothing  as  yet,  but  longmg  to 
know  even  the  m3'steries  of  the  kingdom,  and  having 
nothing  but  the  plea  of  a  great  mercy  and  a  great  need. 
And  are  they  not  '* blessed"  who  are  citizens  of  the 
kingdom — with  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  all  their 
own,  a  peace  which  is  perfect  and  Divine,  and  a  joy 
v/hich  no  man  taketh  from  them  ?  Are  they  not 
blessed,  thrice  blessed,  when  the  bright  shadow  of  the 
Throne  covers  all  iheir  earthly  life,  making  its  dark 
places  light,  and  weaving  rainbows  out  of  their  very 
tears  ?  He  who  through  the  strait  gate  of  repent- 
ance passes  within  the  kingdom  finds  it  "  the  kingdom 
of  heaven "  indeed,  his  earthly  years  the  beginnings 
of  the  heavenly  life. 

And  now  we  touch  a  point  Jesus  ever  loved  to 
illustrate  and  emphasize,  the  manner  of  the  kingdom's 
j:;rowth,  as  with  ever-widening  frontiers  it  sweeps  out- 
ward in  its  conquest  of  a  world.  It  was  a  beautiful 
dream  of  Hebrew  prophecy  that  in  the  latter  days  the 
kingdom  of  God,  or  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah, 
should  overlap  the  bounds  of  human  empires,  and 
ultimately  cover  the  whole  earth.  Looking  through  her 
kaleidoscope  of  ever-shifting  but  harmonious  figures, 
Prophecy  was  never  weary  of  telling  of  the  Golden 
Age  she  saw  in  the  far  future,  when  the  shadows 
would  lift,  and  a  new  Dawn,  breaking  out  of  Jerusalem, 
would  steal  over  the  world.  Even  the  Gentiles  should 
be  drawn  to  its  light,  and  kings  to  the  brightness  of 
its  rising;  the  seas   should  offer  their  abundance  aa 


252  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

SL  willing  tribute,  and  the  isles  should  wait  for  and 
welcome  its  laws.  Taking  up  into  itself  the  petty 
strifes  and  jealousies  of  men,  the  discords  of  earth 
should  cease;  humanity  should  again  become  a  unit, 
restored  and  regenerate  fellow-citizens  of  the  new 
kingdom,  the  kingdom  which  should  have  no  end,  no 
boundaries  either  of  space  or  time. 

Such  was  the  dream  of  Prophecy,  the  kingdom  Jesus 
sets  Himself  to  found  and  realize  upon  earth.  But 
how?  Disclaiming  any  rivalry  with  Pilate,  or  with 
his  imperial  master,  Jesus  said,  "  My  kingdom  is  not 
of  this  world,"  so  lifting  it  altogether  out  of  the  mould 
in  which  earthly  dynasties  are  cast.  "This  world" 
uses  force ;  its  kingdoms  are  won  and  held  by  metallic 
processes,  tinctures  of  iron  and  steel.  In  the  kingdom 
of  God  carnal  weapons  are  out  of  place ;  its  only 
forces  are  truth  and  love,  and  he  who  takes  the  sword 
to  advance  this  cause  wounds  but  himself,  after  the 
vain  manner  of  Baal's  priests.  *'  This  world  "  counts 
heads  or  hands ;  the  kingdom  of  God  numbers  its 
citizens  by  hearts  alone.  "  This  world "  believes  in 
pomp  and  show,  in  outward  visibilities  and  symbols; 
the  kingdom  of  God  conieth  not  '^  with  observation ; " 
its  voices  are  gentle  as  a  zephyr,  its  footsteps  noiseless 
as  the  coming  of  spring.  If  man  had  had  the  ordering 
of  the  kingdom  he  would  have  summoned  to  his  aid 
all  kinds  of  portents  and  surprises ;  he  would  have 
arranged  processions  of  imposing  events ;  but  Jesus 
likens  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  to  a  grain  of  mustard- 
seed  cast  into  a  garden,  or  to  a  handful  of  leaven  hid 
in  three  sata  of  meal.  The  two  parables,  with  minor 
distinctions,  are  one  in  their  import,  the  leading  thought 
common  to  both  being  the  contrast  between  its  ultimate 
growth  and  the  smallness  and  obscurity  of  its  begin- 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD.  253 

nings.  In  both  the  recreative  force  is  a  hidden  force, 
buried  out  of  sight,  in  the  soil  or  in  the  meal.  In 
both  the  force  works  outward  from  its  centre,  the 
invisible  becoming  visible,  the  inner  life  assuming  an 
outer,  external  form.  In  both  we  see  the  touch  of  life 
upon  death ;  for  left  to  itself,  the  soil  never  would  be 
anything  more  than  dead  earth,  as  the  meal  would  be 
nothing  more  than  dust,  the  broken  ashes  of  a  life 
that  was  departed.  In  both  there  is  extension  by 
assimilation,  the  leaven  throwing  itself  out  among  the 
particles  of  kindred  meal,  while  the  tree  attracts  to 
itself  the  kindred  elements  of  the  soil.  In  both  there 
is  the  mediation  of  the  human  hand;  but  as  if  to  show 
that  the  kingdom  offers  equal  privilege  to  male  and 
female,  with  like  possibilities  of  service,  the  one  parable 
shows  us  the  hand  of  a  man,  the  other  the  hand  of  a 
woman.  In  both  there  is  a  perfect  work,  a  consum- 
mation, the  one  parable  showing  us  the  whole  mass 
leavened,  the  other  showing  us  the  wide-spreading 
tree,  with  the  birds  nesting  in  its  branches. 

Such,  in  outline,  is  the  rise  and  progress  of  the 
kingdom  of  God  in  the  heart  of  the  individual  man, 
and  in  the  world  ;  for  the  human  soul  is  the  protoplasm, 
the  germ-cell,  out  of  which  this  world-wide  kingdom  is 
evolved.  The  mass  is  leavened  only  by  the  leavening 
of  the  separate  units.  And  how  comes  the  kingdom 
of  God  within  the  soul  and  life  of  man  ?  Not  with 
observation  or  supernatural  portents,  but  silently  as 
the  flashing  forth  of  light.  Thought,  desire,  purpose, 
prayer — these  are  the  wheels  of  the  chariot  in  which 
the  Lord  comes  to  His  temple,  the  King  into  His 
kingdom.  And  when  the  kingdom  of  God  is  set  up 
"  within  you  "  the  outer  life  shapes  itself  to  the  new 
purpose  and  aim,  the  writ  and  will  of  the  King  running 


aS4  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

unhindered  through  every  department,  even  to  its  out- 
most frontier,  while  thoughts,  feehngs,  desires,  and  all 
the  golden  coinage  of  the  heart  bear,  not,  as  before, 
the  image  of  Self,  but  the  image  and  superscription 
of  the  Invisible  King— the  *'  Not  I,  but  Christ." 

And  so  the  honour  of  the  kingdom  is  in  our  keep- 
ing, as  the  growths  of  the  kingdom  are  in  our  hands. 
The  Divine  Cloud  adjusts  its  pace  to  our  human  steps, 
alas,  often  far  too  slow!  Shall  the  leaven  stop  with 
us,  as  we  make  religion  a  kind  of  sanctified  selfish- 
ness, doing  nothing  but  gauging  the  emotions  and 
singing  its  little  doxologies  ?  Do  we  forget  that  the 
weak  human  hand  carries  the  Ark  of  God,  and  pushes 
forward  the  boundaries  of  the  kingdom  ?  Do  we 
forget  that  hearts  are  only  won  by  hearts?  The 
kingdom  of  God  on  earth  is  the  kingdom  of  surrendered 
wills  and  of  consecrated  lives.  Shall  we  not,  then, 
pray,  "  Thy  kingdom  come,"  and  living  "  more  nearly 
as  we  pray,"  seek  a  redeemed  humanity  as  subjects  of 
our  King?  So  will  the  Divine  purpose  become  a 
realization,  and  the  "morning"  which  now  is  always 
"  somewhere  in  the  world "  will  be  everywhere,  the 
promise  and  the  dawn  of  a  heavenly  day,  the  eternal 
Sabbath  1 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  MIRACLES  OF  HEAUNG, 

IT  is  only  natural  that  our  Evangelist  should  linger 
with  a  professional  as  well  as  a  personal  interest 
over  Christ's  connection  with  human  suffering  and 
disease,  and  that  in  recounting  the  miracles  of  healing 
he  should  be  peculiarly  at  home;  the  theme  would 
be  in  such  thorough  accord  with  his  studies  and  tastes. 
It  is  true  he  does  not  refer  to  these  miracles  as  being 
a  fulfilment  of  prophecy;  it  is  left  for  St.  Matthew, 
who  weaves  his  Gospel  on  the  unfinished  warp  of  the 
Old  Testament,  to  recall  the  words  of  Isaiah,  how 
"  Himself  took  our  infirmities  and  bare  our  diseases ; " 
yet  our  physician-Evangelist  evidently  lingers  over  the 
pathological  side  of  his  Gospel  with  an  intense  interest. 
St.  John  passes  by  the  miracles  of  healing  in  compara- 
tive silence,  though  he  stays  to  give  us  two  cases  which 
are  omitted  by  the  Synoptists — that  of  the  nobleman's 
son  at  Capernaum,  and  that  of  the  impotent  man  at 
Bethesda.  But  St.  John's  Gospel  moves  in  more 
etherial  spheres,  and  the  touches  he  chronicles  are 
rather  the  touches  of  mind  with  mind,  spirit  with  spirit, 
than  the  physical  touches  through  the  coarser  medium 
of  the  flesh.  The  Synoptists,  however,  especially  in 
their  earlier  chapters,  bring  the  works  of  Christ  into 
prominence,  travelUng,  too   very  much  over  the  same 


856  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

ground,  though  each  introduces  some  special  facts 
omitted  by  the  rest,  while  in  their  record  of  the  same 
fact  each  Evangelist  throws  some  additional  colouring. 

Grouping  together  the  miracles  of  healing — for  our 
space  will  not  allow  a  separate  treatment  of  each — our 
thought  is  first  arrested  by  the  variety  of  forms  in 
which  suffering  and  disease  presented  themselves  to 
Jesus,  the  wideness  of  the  ground,  physical  and 
psychical,  the  miracles  of  healing  cover.  Our  Evan- 
geHst  mentions  fourteen  different  cases,  not,  however, 
as  including  the  whole,  or  even  the  greater  part,  but 
rather  as  being  typical,  representative  cases.  They 
are,  as  it  were,  the  nearer  constellations,  localized  and 
named ;  but  again  and  again  in  his  narrative  we  find 
whole  groups  and  clusters  lying  farther  back,  making 
a  sort  of  Milky  Way  of  light,  whose  thickly  clustered 
worlds  baffle  all  our  attempts  at  enumeration.  Such  are 
the  "  women  "  of  chap.  viii.  ver.  2,  who  had  been  healed 
of  their  infirmities,  but  whose  record  is  omitted  in  the 
Gospel  story ;  and  such,  too,  are  those  groups  of  cures 
mentioned  in  chapters  iv.  40,  v.  15,  vi.  19,  and  vii.  21, 
when  the  Divine  power  seemed  to  culminate,  throwing 
itself  out  in  a  largesse  of  blessing,  fairly  raining  down 
its  bright  gifts  of  healing  Hke  meteoric  showers. 

Turning  now  to  the  typical  cases  mentioned  by 
St.  Luke,  they  are  as  follows:  the  man  possessed 
of  an  unclean  demon;  Peter's  wife's  mother,  who 
was  sick  of  a  fever ;  a  leper,  a  paralytic,  the  man 
with  the  withered  hand,  the  servant  of  the  centurion, 
the  demoniac,  the  woman  with  an  issue,  the  boy 
possessed  with  a  demon,  the  man  with  a  dumb 
demon,  the  woman  with  an  infirmity,  the  man  with 
the  dropsy,  the  ten  lepers,  and  blind  Bartimaeus. 
The  list,  like  so  many  lines  of  dark  meridians,  measures 


THE  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING,  HI 

off  the  entire  circumference  of  the  world  of  suffering, 
beginning  with  the  withered  hand,  and  going  on  and 
down  to  that  '*  sacrament  of  death,"  leprosy,  and  to 
that  yet  further  deep,  demoniacal  possession.  Some 
diseases  were  of  more  recent  origin,  as  the  case  of 
fever ;  others  were  chronic,  of  twelve  or  eighteen  years' 
standing,  or  lifelong,  as  in  the  case  of  the  possessed 
boy.  In  some  a  solitary  organ  was  affected,  as  when 
the  hand  had  withered,  or  the  tongue  was  tied  by  some 
power  of  evil,  or  the  eyes  had  lost  their  gift  of  vision. 
In  others  the  whole  person  was  diseased,  as  when  the 
fires  of  l^he  fever  shot  through  the  heated  veins,  or 
the  lepro^>y  was  covering  the  flesh  with  the  white 
scales  of  d=iath.  But  whatever  its  nature  or  its  stage, 
the  disease  was  acute,  as  far  as  human  probabilities 
went,  past  aL  hope  of  healing.  It  was  no  slight  attack, 
but  a  "  great  fever "  which  had  stricken  down  the 
mother-in-law  ■)f  Peter,  the  intensive  adjective  show- 
ing that  it  had  reached  its  danger-point.  And  where 
among  human  means  was  there  hope  for  a  restored 
vision,  when  for  years  the  last  glimmer  of  light  had 
faded  away,  when  even  the  optic  nerve  was  atrophied 
by  the  long  disuse  ?  and  where,  among  the  limited 
pharmacopoeias  of  ancient  times,  or  even  among  the 
vastly  extended  lists  of  modern  times,  was  there  a  cure 
for  the  leper,  who  carried,  burned  into  his  very  flesh, 
his  sentence  of  death  ?  No,  it  was  not  the  trivial, 
temporary  cases  of  sickness  Jesus  took  in  hand ;  but 
He  passed  into  that  innermost  shrine  of  the  temple  of 
suffering,  the  shrine  that  lay  in  perpetual  night,  and 
over  whose  doorway  was  the  inscription  of  Dante's 
"  Inferno,"  "  All  hope  abandon,  ye  who  enter  here  1 " 
But  when  Jesus  entered  this  grim  abode  He  turned  its 
darkness  to  light,  its  sighs  to   songs,  bringing  hope 

17 


258  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

to  despairing  ones,  and  leading  back  into  the  light  of 
day  these  captives  of  Death,  as  Orpheus  is  fabled  to 
have  brought  back  to  earth  the  lost  Eurydice. 

And  not  only  are  the  cases  so  varied  in  their  cha- 
racter, and  humanly  speaking,  hopeless  in  their  nature, 
but  they  were  presented  to  Jesus  in  such  a  diversity 
of  ways.  They  are  none  of  them  arranged  for,  studied. 
They  could  not  have  formed  any  plan  or  routine  of 
mercy,  nor  were  they  timed  for  the  purpose  of  pro- 
ducing spectacular  effects.  They  were  nearly  all  of 
them  impromptu,  extemporary  events,  coming  without 
His  seeking,  and  coming  often  as  interruptions  to  His 
own  plans.  Now  it  is  in  the  synagogue,  in  the  pauses 
of  public  worship,  that  Jesus  rebukes  an  unclean  devil, 
or  He  bids  the  cripple  stretch  out  his  withered  hand. 
Now  it  is  in  the  city,  amid  the  crowd,  or  out  upon  the 
plain ;  now  it  is  within  the  house  of  a  chief  Pharisee, 
in  the  very  midst  of  an  entertainment ;  while  at  other 
times  He  is  walking  on  the  road,  when,  without  even 
stopping  in  His  journey.  He  wills  the  leper  clean,  or 
He  throws  the  gift  of  life  and  health  forward  to  the 
centurion's  servant,  whom  He  has  not  seen.  No  times 
were  inopportune  to  Him,  and  no  places  were  foreign 
to  the  Son  of  man,  where  men  suffered  and  pain  abode. 
Jesus  refused  no  request  on  the  ground  that  the  time 
was  not  well  chosen,  and  though  He  did  again  and 
again  refuse  the  request  of  selfish  interest  or  vain 
ambition.  He  never  once  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  cry 
of  sorrow  or  of  pain,  no  matter  when  or  whence  it 
came. 

And  if  we  consider  His  methods  of  healing  we  find 
the  same  diversity.  Perhaps  we  ought  not  to  use  that 
word,  for  there  was  a  singular  absence  of  method. 
There  was  nothing  set,  artificial  in  His  way,  but  an 


THE  MIRACLES  OF  HE  AUNG.  S59 

easy  freedom,  a  beautiful  naturalness.  In  one  respect, 
and  perhaps  in  one  only,  are  all  similar,  and  that  is  in 
the  absence  of  intermediaries.  There  was  no  use  of 
means,  no  prescription  of  remedies  ;  for  in  the  seeming 
exception,  the  clay  with  which  He  anointed  the  eyes  of 
the  blind,  and  the  waters  of  Siloam  which  He  pre- 
scribed, were  not  remedial  in  themselves ;  the  washing 
was  rather  the  test  of  the  man's  faith,  while  the  anoint- 
ing was  a  sort  of  "aside,"  spoken,  not  to  the  man 
himself,  but  to  the  group  of  onlookers,  preparing  them 
for  the  fresh  manifestation  of  His  power.  Generally  a 
word  was  enough,  though  we  read  of  His  healing 
"touch,"  and  twice  of  the  symbolic  laying  on  of  hands. 
And  by-the-way,  it  is  somewhat  singular  that  Jesus 
made  use  of  the  touch  at  the  healing  of  the  leper, 
when  the  touch  meant  ceremonial  uncleanness.  Why 
does  He  not  speak  the  word  only,  as  He  did  afterwards 
at  the  healing  of  the  "  ten  "  ?  And  why  does  He,  as 
it  were,  go  out  of  His  way  to  put  Himself  in  personal 
contact  with  a  leper,  who  was  under  a  ceremonial  ban  ? 
Was  it  not  to  show  that  a  new  era  had  dawned,  an  era 
in  which  uncleanness  should  be  that  of  the  heart,  the 
life,  and  no  longer  the  outward  uncleanness,  which  any 
accident  of  contact  might  induce  ?  Did  not  the  touch- 
ing of  the  leper  mean  the  abrogation  of  the  multiplied 
bans  of  the  Old  Dispensation,  just  as  afterwards  a 
heavenly  vision  coming  to  Peter  wiped  out  the  dividing- 
line  between  clean  and  unclean  meats  ?  And  why  did 
not  the  touch  of  the  leper  m.ake  Jesus  ceremonially 
unclean  ?  for  we  do  not  read  that  it  did,  or  that  He 
altered  His  plans  one  whit  because  01  it  Perhaps  we 
find  our  answer  in  the  Levitical  regulations  respecting 
the  leprosy.  We  read  (Lev.  xiv.  28)  that  at  the 
cleansing  of  the  leper  the  priest  was  to  dip  his  right 


26o  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

finger  in  the  blood  and  in  the  oil,  and  put  it  on  the  ear, 
and  hand,  and  foot  of  the  person  cleansed.  The  finger 
of  the  priest  was  thus  the  index  or  sign  of  purity,  the 
lifting  up  of  the  ban  which  his  leprosy  had  put  around 
and  over  him.  And  when  Jesus  touched  the  leper  it 
was  the  priestly  touch;  it  carried  its  own  cleansing 
with  it,  imparting  power  and  purity,  instead  of  con- 
tracting the  defilement  of  another. 

But  if  Jesus  touched  the  leper,  and  permitted  the 
woman  af  Capernaum  to  touch  Him,  or  at  any  rate 
His  garment,  He  studiously  avoided  any  personal  con- 
tact with  those  possessed  of  devils.  He  recognized 
here  the  presence  of  evil  spirits,  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness, which  have  enthralled  the  weaker  human  spirit, 
and  for  these  a  word  is  enough.  But  how  different  a 
word  to  His  other  words  of  healing,  when  He  said  to 
the  leper,  *'  I  will ;  be  thou  clean,"  and  to  Bartimaeus, 
"  Receive  thy  sight " !  Now  it  is  a  word  sharp,  im- 
perative, not  spoken  to  the  poor  helpless  victim,  but 
thrown  over  and  beyond  him,  to  the  dark  personality, 
which  held  a  human  soul  in  a  vile,  degrading  bondage. 
And  so  while  the  possessed  boy  lay  writhing  and  foam- 
ing on  the  ground,  Jesus  laid  no  hand  upon  him;  it 
was  not  till  after  He  had  spoken  the  mighty  word,  and 
the  demon  had  departed  from  him,  that  Jesus  took  him 
by  the  hand  and  Hfted  him  up. 

But  whether  by  word  or  by  touch,  the  miracles  were 
wrought  with  consummate  ease;  there  were  none  of 
those  artistic  flourishes  which  mere  performers  use  as 
a  blind  to  cover  their  sleight  of  hand.  There  was  no 
straining  for  effect,  no  apparent  effort.  Jesus  Himself 
seemed  perfectly  unconscious  that  He  was  doing  any- 
thing marvellous  or  even  unusual.  The  words  of  power 
fell  naturally  from  His  lips,  like  the  falling  of  leaves 


THE  MIRACLES  OF  HEAUNG,  s6i 

from  the  tree  of  life,  carrying,  wheresoever  they  might 
go,  healing  for  the  nations. 

But  if  the  method  of  the  cures  is  wonderful,  the 
unstudied  ease  and  simple  naturalness  of  the  Healer, 
the  completeness  of  the  cures  is  even  more  so.  In  all 
the  multitudes  of  cases  there  was  no  failure.  We  find 
the  disciples  baffled  and  chagrined,  attempting  what 
they  cannot  perform,  as  with  the  possessed  boy ;  but 
with  Jesus  failure  was  an  impossible  word.  Nor  did 
Jesus  simply  make  them  better,  bringing  them  into  a 
state  of  convalescence,  and  so  putting  them  in  the  way 
of  getting  well.  The  cure  was  instant  and  complete ; 
"  immediately "  is  St.  Luke's  frequent  and  favourite 
word ;  so  much  so  that  she  who  half  an  hour  ago  was 
stricken  down  with  malignant  fever,  and  apparently 
at  the  point  of  death,  now  is  going  about  her  ordinary 
duties  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  **  ministering "  to 
Peter's  many  guests.  Though  Nature  possesses  a  great 
deal  of  resilient  force,  her  periods  of  convalescence, 
when  the  disease  itself  is  checked,  are  more  or  less 
prolonged,  and  weeks,  or  sometimes  months,  must 
elapse  before  the  spring-tides  of  health  return,  bringing 
with  them  a  sweet  overflow,  an  exuberance  of  life. 
Not  so,  however,  when  Jesus  was  the  Healer.  At  His 
word,  or  at  the  mere  beckoning  of  His  finger,  the  tides 
of  health,  which  had  gone  far  out  in  the  ebb,  suddenly 
returned  in  all  their  spring  fulness,  lifting  high  oh  their 
wave  the  bark  which  through  hopeless  years  had  been 
settling  down  into  its  miry  grave.  Eighteen  years  of 
disease  had  made  the  woman  quite  deformed ;  the  con- 
tracting muscles  had  bent  the  form  God  made  to  stand 
erect,  so  that  she  could  **  in  no  wise  lift  herself  up ; " 
but  when  Jesus  said,  "  Woman,  thou  art  loosed  from 
thine  infirmity/'  and  laid  His  hands  upon  her,  in  an 


262  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

instant  the  tightened  muscles  relaxed,  the  bent  form 
regained  its  earlier  grace,  for  "  she  was  made  straight, 
and  glorified  God."  One  moment,  with  the  Christ  in 
it,  was  more  than  eighteen  years  of  disease,  and  with 
the  most  perfect  ease  it  could  undo  all  the  eighteen 
years  had  done.  And  this  is  but  a  specimen  case,  for 
the  same  completeness  characterizes  all  the  cures  that 
Jesus  wrought  **  They  were  made  whole,"  as  it  reads, 
no  matter  what  the  malady  might  be ;  and  though 
disease  had  loosened  all  the  thousand  strings,  so  that 
the  wonderful  harp  was  reduced  to  silence,  or  at  best 
could  but  strike  discordant  notes,  the  hand  of  Jesus  has 
but  to  touch  it,  and  in  an  instant  each  string  recovers 
its  pristine  tone,  the  jarring  sounds  vanish,  and  body, 
"  mind,  and  soul  according  well,  awake  sweet  music  as 
before." 

But  though  Jesus  wrought  these  many  and  complete 
cures,  making  the  healing  of  the  sick  a  sort  of  pastime, 
the  interludes  in  that  Divine  "  Messiah,"  still  He 
did  not  work  these  miracles  indiscriminately,  without 
method  or  conditions.  He  freely  placed  His  service 
at  the  disposal  of  others,  giving  Himself  up  to  one  tire- 
less round  of  mercy ;  but  it  is  evident  there  was  some 
selection  for  these  gifts  of  healing.  The  healing  power 
was  not  thrown  out  randomly,  falling  on  any  one  it 
might  chance  to  strike ;  it  flowed  out  in  certain  direc- 
tions only,  in  ordered  channels;  it  followed  certain 
lines  and  laws.  For  instance,  these  circles  of  healing 
were  geographically  narrow.  They  followed  the  per- 
sonal presence  of  Jesus,  and  with  one  or  two  excep- 
tions, were  never  found  apart  from  that  presence ;  so 
that,  many  as  they  were,  they  would  form  but  a  small 
part  of  suffering  humanity.  And  even  within  these 
circles  of  His  visible  presence  we  arc  not  to  suppose 


THE  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING,  1(3 


that  all  were  healed.  Some  were  taken,  and  others 
were  left,  to  a  suffering  from  which  only  death  would 
release  them.  Can  we  discover  the  law  of  this  election 
of  mercy  ?     We  think  we  may. 

(i)  In  the  first  place,  there  must  be  the  need  for  the 
Divine  intervention.  This  perhaps  goes  without  saying, 
and  does  not  seem  to  mean  much,  since  among  those 
who  were  left  unhealed  there  were  needs  just  as  great 
as  those  of  the  more  favoured  ones.  But  while  the 
*'  need  "  in  some  cases  was  not  enough  to  secure  the 
Divine  mercy,  in  other  cases  it  was  all  that  was  asked. 
If  the  disease  was  mental  or  psychical,  with  reason 
all  bewildered,  and  the  firmaments  of  Right  and  Wrong 
mixed  confusedly  together,  making  a  chaos  of  the  soul, 
that  was  all  Jesus  required.  At  other  times  He  waited 
for  the  desire  to  be  evoked  and  the  request  to  be  made  ; 
but  for  these  cases  of  lunacy,  epilepsy,  and  demoniacal 
possession  He  waived  the  other  conditions,  and 
without  waiting  for  the  request,  as  in  the  synagogue 
(iv.  34)  or  on  the  Gadarene  coast.  He  spoke  the  word, 
which  brought  order  to  a  distracted  soul,  and  which 
led  Reason  back  to  her  Jerusalem,  to  the  long-vacant 
throne. 

For  others  the  need  itself  was  not  sufficient ;  there 
must  be  the  request.  Our  desire  for  any  blessing  is 
our  appraisement  of  its  value,  and  Jesus  dispensed  His 
gifts  of  healing  on  the  Divine  conditions,  "Ask,  and 
ye  shall  receive;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find."  How  the 
request  came,  whether  from  the  sufferer  himself  or 
through  some  intercessor,  it  did  not  matter;  for  no 
request  for  healing  came  to  Jesus  to  be  disregarded  or 
denied.  Nor  was  it  always  needful  to  put  the  request 
into  words.  Prayer  is  too  grand  and  great  a  thing 
for  the  lips  to  have  a  monopoly  of  it,  and  the  deepest 


264  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

prayers  may  be  put  into  acts  as  well  as  into  words, 
as  they  are  sometimes  uttered  in  inarticulate  sighs,  and 
in  groans  which  are  too  deep  for  words.  And  was  it 
not  truest  prayer,  as  the  multitudes  carried  their  sick 
and  laid  them  down  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  even  had 
their  voice  spoken  no  solitary  word  ?  and  was  it  not 
truest  prayer,  as  they  put  themselves,  with  their  bent 
forms  and  withered  hands  right  in  His  way,  not  able 
to  speak  one  single  word,  but  throwing  across  to  Him 
the  piteous  but  hopeful  look  ?  The  request  was  thus 
the  expression  of  their  desire,  and  at\the  same  time 
the  expression  of  their  faith,  telling  of  the  trust  they 
reposed  in  His  pity  and  His  power,  a  trust  He  was 
always  delighted  to  see,  and  to  which  He  always 
responded,  as  He  Himself  said  again  and  again,  "  Thy 
faith  hath  saved  thee."  Faith  then,  as  now,  was  the 
sesame  to  which  all  Heaven's  gates  fly  open ;  and 
as  in  the  case  of  the  paralytic  who  was  borne  of  four, 
and  let  down  through  the  roof,  even  a  vicarious  faith 
prevails  with  Jesus,  as  it  brings  to  their  friend  a  double 
and  complete  salvation.  And  so  they  who  sought 
Jesus  as  their  Healer  found  Him,  and  they  who 
believed  entered  into  His  rest,  this  lower  rest  of  a  per- 
fect health  and  perfect  life;  while  they  who  were 
indifferent  and  they  who  doubted  were  left  behind, 
crushed  by  the  sorrow  that  He  would  have  removed, 
and  tortured  by  pains  that  His  touch  would  have  com- 
pletely stilled. 

And  now  it  remains  for  us  to  gather  up  the  light  of 
these  miracles,  and  to  focus  it  on  Him  who  was  the 
central  Figure,  Jesus,  the  Divine  Healer.  And  (i) 
the  miracles  of  healing  speak  of  the  knowledge  of 
Jesus.  The  question,  "  What  is  man  ?  "  has  been  the 
standing  question  of  the  ages,  but  it  is  still  unanswered, 


THE  MIRACLES  OF  HE  AUNG.  j6s 

or  answered  but  in  part.  His  complex  nature  is  still 
a  mystery,  the  eternal  riddle  of  the  Sphinx,  and  (Edipus 
comes  not.  Physiology  can  number  and  name  the  bones 
and  muscles,  can  tell  the  forms  and  functions  of  the 
different  organs  ;  chemistry  can  resolve  the  body  into 
its  constituent  elements,  and  weigh  out  their  exact  pro- 
portions ;  philosophy  can  map  out  the  departments  of 
the  mind ;  but  man  remains  the  great  enigma.  Biology 
carries  her  silken  clue  right  up  to  the  primordial  cell ; 
but  here  she  finds  a  Gordian  knot,  which  her  keenest 
instruments  cannot  cut,  or  her  keenest  wit  unravel. 
Within  that  complex  nature  of  ours  are  oceans  of 
mystery  which  Thought  may  indeed  explore,  but  which 
she  cannot  fathom,  paths  which  the  vulture  eye  of 
Reason  hath  not  seen,  whose  voices  are  the  voices  of 
unknown  tongues,  answering  each  other  through  the 
mist.  But  how  familiar  did  Jesus  seem  with  all  these 
life-secrets  I  how  intimate  with  all  the  life-forces  I 
How  versed  He  was  in  etiology,  knowing  without 
possibility  of  mistake  whence  diseases  came,  and  just 
where  they  looked !  It  was  no  mystery  to  Him 
how  the  hand  had  shrunk,  shrivelling  into  a  mass  of 
bones,  with  no  skill  in  its  fingers,  and  no  life  in  its 
cloyed-up  veins,  or  how  the  eyes  had  lost  their  power 
of  vision.  His  knowledge  of  the  human  frame  was 
an  exact  and  perfect  knowledge,  reading  its  innermost 
secrets,  as  in  a  transparency,  knowing  to  a  certainty 
what  links  had  dropped  out  of  the  subtle  mechan- 
ism, and  what  had  been  warped  out  of  place,  and 
knowing  well  just  at  what  point  and  to  what  an 
extent  to  apply  the  healing  remedy,  which  was  His 
own  volition.  All  earth  and  all  heaven  were  with- 
out a  covering  to  His  gaze;  and  what  was  this  but 
Omniscience  ? 


266  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

(2)  Again,  the  miracles  of  healing  speak  of  the 
compassion  of  Jesus.  It  was  with  no  reluctance  that 
He  wrought  these  works  of  mercy;  it  was  His  delight, 
His  heart  was  drawn  towards  suffering  and  pain  by  the 
magnetism  of  a  Divine  sympathy,  or  rather,  we  ought 
to  say,  towards  the  sufferers  themselves ;  for  suffering 
and  pain,  like  sin  and  woe,  were  exotics  in  His  Father's 
garden,  the  deadly  nightshade  an  enemy  had  sown. 
And  so  we  mark  a  great  tenderness  in  all  His  dealings 
with  the  afflicted.  He  does  not  apply  the  caustic  of 
bitter  and  biting  words.  Even  when,  as  we  may  sup- 
pose, the  suffering  is  the  harvest  of  earlier  sin,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  paralytic,  Jesus  speaks  no  harsh  reproaches ; 
He  says  simply  and  kindly,  "  Go  in  peace,  and  sin  no 
.more."  And  do  we  not  find  here  a  reason  why  these 
miracles  of  healing  were  so  frequent  in  His  ministry  ? 
Was  it  not  because  in  His  mind  Sickness  was  some- 
how related  to  Sin  ?  If  miracles  were  needed  to  attest 
the  Divineness  of  His  mission,  there  was  no  need  of  the 
constant  succession  of  them,  no  need  that  they  should 
form  a  part,  and  a  large  part,  of  the  daily  task.  Sick 
ness  is,  so  to  speak,  something  unnaturally  natural. 
It  results  from  the  transgression  of  some  physical  law, 
as  Sin  is  the  transgression  of  some  moral  law ;  and  He 
who  is  man's  Saviour  brings  a  complete  salvation, 
a  redemption  for  the  body  as  well  as  a  redemption  for 
the  soul.  Indeed,  the  diseases  of  the  body  are  but  the 
shadows,  seen  and  felt,  of  the  deeper  diseases  of  the 
soul,  and  with  Jesus  the  physical  healing  was  but  a 
step  to  the  higher  truth  and  higher  experience,  that 
spiritual  cleansing,  that  inner  creation  of  a  right  spirit, 
a  perfect  heart.  And  so  Jesus  carried  on  the  two  works 
side  by  side ;  they  were  the  two  parts  of  His  one  and 
great  salvation ;  and  as  He  loved  and  pitied  the  sinner, 


THE  MIRACLES  OF  HE  AUNG,  267 

SO  He  pitied  and  loved  the  sufferer ;  His  sympathies  all 
went  out  to  meet  him,  preparing  the  way  for  His  healing 
virtues  to  follow. 

(3)  Again,  the  miracles  of  healing  speak  of  the  power 
of  Jesus.  This  was  seen  indirectly  when  we  considered 
the  completeness  of  the  cures,  and  the  wide  field  they 
covered,  and  we  need  not  enlarge  upon  it  now.  But 
what  a  consciousness  of  might  there  was  in  Jesus  I 
Others,  prophets  and  apostles,  have  healed  the  sick, 
but  their  power  was  delegated.  It  came  as  in  waves 
of  Divine  impulse,  intermittent  and  temporary.  The 
power  that  Jesus  wielded  was  inherent  and  absolute, 
deeps  which  knew  neither  cessation  nor  diminution. 
His  will  was  supreme  over  all  forces.  Nature's  potencies 
are  diffused  and  isolated,  slumbering  in  herb  or  metal, 
flower  or  leaf,  in  mountain  or  sea.  But  all  are  inert  and 
useless  until  man  distils  them  with  his  subtle  alchemies, 
and  then  applies  them  by  his  slow  processes,  dissolving 
the  tinctures  in  the  blood,  sending  on  its  warm  currents 
the  healing  virtue,  if  haply  it  may  reach  its  goal  and 
accomplish  its  mission.  But  all  these  potencies  lay 
in  the  hand  or  in  the  will  of  Christ.  The  forces  of 
life  all  were  marshalled  under  His  bidding.  He  had 
but  to  say  to  one  "  Go,"  and  it  went,  here  or  there, 
or  any  whither ;  nor  does  it  go  for  nought ;  it  accom- 
plishes its  high  behest,  the  great  Master's  will.  Nay, 
the  power  of  Jesus  is  supreme  even  in  that  outlying 
and  dark  world  of  evil  spirits.  The  demons  fly  at 
His  rebuke ;  and  let  Him  throw  but  one  healing  word 
across  the  dark,  chaotic  soul  of  one  possessed,  and 
in  an  instant  Reason  dawns;  bright  thoughts  play 
on  the  horizon ;  the  firmaments  of  Right  and  Wrong 
separate  to  infinite  distances ;  and  out  of  the  darkness 
a  Paradise  emerges,  of  beauty  and  light,  where  the  new 


a68  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


son  of  God  resides,  and  God  Himself  comes  down  in 
the  cool  and  the  heat  of  the  days  alike.  What  power 
is  this  ?  Is  it  not  the  power  of  God  ?  is  it  not 
Omnipotence  ? 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

THE  MIRACLE  OF  THE  LOAVES 

THE  Galilean  ministry  was  drawing  to  a  close, 
for  the  *^ great  Light"  which  had  risen  over  the 
northern  province  must  now  move  southward,  to  set 
behind  a  cross  and  a  grave.  Jesus,  however,  is  reluc- 
tant to  leave  these  borders,  amid  whose  hills  the  greater 
part  of  His  life  has  been  spent,  and  among  whose  com- 
posite population  His  greatest  successes  have  been  won, 
without  one  last  effort.  Calling  together  the  Twelve, 
who  hitherto  have  been  Apostles  in  promise  and  in 
name  rather  than  in  fact.  He  lays  His  plans  before 
them.  Dividing  the  district  into  sections,  so  as  to 
equalize  their  labours  and  prevent  any  overlapping.  He 
sends  them  out  in  pairs ;  for  in  the  Divine  arithmetic 
two  are  more  than  twice  one,  more  than  the  sum  of  the 
separate  units  by  all  the  added  force  and  strength  of 
fellowship.  They  are  to  be  the  heralds  of  the  new 
kingdom,  to  "preach  the  kingdom  of  God,"  their  in- 
signia no  outward,  visible  badge,  but  the  investiture  of 
authority  over  all  demons,  and  power  over  all  diseases. 
Apostles  of  the  Unseen,  servants  of  the  Invisible  King, 
they  must  dismiss  all  worldly  cares;  they  must  not 
even  make  provision  for  their  journey,  weighting  them- 
selves with  such  impedimenta  as  wallets  stored  with 


270  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

bread  or  changes  of  raiment.  They  must  go  forth  in  an 
absolute  trust  in  God,  thus  proving  themselves  citizens 
of  the  heavenly  kingdom,  whose  gates  they  open  to  all 
who  will  repent  and  step  up  into  them.  They  may  take 
a  staff,  for  that  will  help  rather  than  hinder  on  the  steep 
mountain  paths ;  but  since  the  King's  business  requireth 
haste,  they  must  not  spend  their  time  in  the  interminable 
salutations  of  the  age,  nor  in  going  about  from  house  to 
house ;  such  changes  would  only  distract,  diverting  to 
themselves  the  thought  which  should  be  centred  upon 
their  mission.  Should  any  city  not  receive  them,  they 
must  retire  at  once,  shaking  off,  as  they  depart,  the  verj'' 
dust  from  their  feet,  as  a  testimony  against  them. 

Such  were  the  directions,  as  Jesus  dismissed  the 
Twelve,  sending  them  to  reap  the  Galilean  harvest,  and 
at  the  same  time  to  prepare  them  for  the  wider  fields 
which  after  the  Pentecost  would  open  to  them  on  every 
side.  It  is  only  by  incidental  allusions  that  we  learn 
anything  as  to  the  success  of  the  mission,  but  when 
our  Evangelist  says  "  they  went  throughout  the  villages, 
preaching  the  Gospel  and  healing  everywhere,"  these 
frequent  miracles  of  healing  would  imply  that  they 
found  a  sympathetic  and  receptive  people.  Nor  were 
the  impulses  of  the  new  movement  confined  to  the 
lower  reaches  of  society ;  for  even  the  palace  felt  its 
vibrations,  and  St.  Luke,  who  seems  to  have  had  private 
means  of  information  within  the  Court,  possibly  through 
Chuza  and  Manaen,ipauses  to  give  us  a  kind  oi  silhouette 
of  the  Tetrarch.  Herod  himself  is  perplexed.  Like  a 
vane,  "that  fox"  swings  round  to  the  varying  gusts  of 
public  opinion  that  come  eddying  within  the  palace 
from  the  excited  world  outside ;  and  as  some  say  that 
Jesus  is  Elias,  and  others  "one  of  the  old  prophets,* 
whik  others  aver  that  He  is  John  himself,  risen  from 


ix.i-iy.]         THE  MIRACLE  OF  THE  LOAVES.  Vfi 

the  dead,  this  last  rumour  falls  upon  the  ears  of  Herod 
like  alarming  thunders,  making  him  quiver  Hke  an  aspen. 
"And  he  sought  to  see  Jesus."  The  "conscience 
that  makes  cowards  of  us  all "  had  unnerved  him,  and 
he  longed  by  a  personal  acquaintance  with  Jesus  to 
waive  back  out  of  his  sight  the  apparition  of  the 
murdered  prophet.  Who  Jesus  might  be  did  not 
much  concern  Herod.  He  might  be  Elias,  or  one  of 
the  old  prophets,  anything  but  John ;  and  so  when 
Herod  did  see  Jesus  afterwards,  and  saw  that  He  was 
not  the  risen  Baptist,  but  the  Man  of  Galilee,  his 
courage  revived,  and  he  gave  Jesus  into  the  hands  of 
his  cohorts,  that  they  might  mock  Him  with  the  faded 
purple. 

What  steps  Herod  took  to  secure  an  interview  we 
do  not  know ;  but  the  verb  indicates  more  than  a  wish 
on  his  part ;  it  implies  some  plan  or  attempt  to  gratify 
the  wish ;  and  probably  it  was  these  advances  of 
Herod,  together  with  the  Apostles'  need  of  rest  after 
the  strain  and  excitements  of  their  mission,  which 
prompted  Jesus  to  seek  a  place  of  retirement  outside 
the  bounds  of  Antipas.  On  the  northern  shore  of  the 
Sea  of  Galilee,  and  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Jordan, 
was  a  second  Bethsaida,  or  "  House  of  Fish "  as  the 
name  means,  built  by  Philip,  and  to  which,  in  honour 
of  Caesar's  daughter,  he  gave  the  surname  of  "Julias." 
The  city  itself  stood  on  the  hills,  some  three  or  four 
miles  back  from  the  shore ;  while  between  the  city  and 
the  lake  swept  a  wide  and  silent  plain,  all  untilled,  as 
the  New  Testament  "desert"  means,  but  rich  in 
pasturage,  as  the  "  much  grass  "  of  John  vL  10  would 
show.  This  still  shore  offered,  as  it  seemed,  a  safe 
refuge  from  the  exacting  and  intrusive  crowds  of 
Capernaum,    whose   constant   coming  and    going   left 


2ya  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

them  no  leisure  so  much  as  to  eat ;  and  bidding  them 
launch  the  familiar  boat,  Jesus  and  the  twelve  sail 
away  to  the  other  side.  The  excited  crowds,  how^ever, 
which  followed  them  to  the  water's  edge,  are  not  so 
easily  to  be  shaken  off;  but  guessing  the  direction  of 
the  boat,  they  seek  to  head  her  off  by  a  quick  detour 
round  the  shore.  And  some  of  them  do ;  for  when 
the  boat  grates  on  the  northern  shingle  some  of  the 
swift-footed  ones  are  already  there  ;  while  stretching 
back  for  miles  is  a  stream  of  humanity,  of  both  sexes 
and  of  all  ages,  but  all  fired  with  one  purpose.  The 
desert  has  suddenly  grown  populous. 

And  how  does  Jesus  bear  this  interruption  to  His 
plans  ?  Does  He  chafe  at  this  intrusion  of  the  people 
upon  His  quiet  hours  ?  Does  He  resent  their  impor- 
tunity, calling  it  impertinence,  then  driving  them  from 
Him  with  a  whip  of  sharp  words  ?  Not  so.  Jesus 
was  accustomed  to  interruptions ;  they  formed  almost 
the  staple  of  His  Hfe.  Nor  did  He  repulse  one  soUtary 
soul  which  sought  sincerely  His  mercy,  no  matter  how 
unseasonable  the  hour,  as  men  would  read  the  hours. 
So  now  Jesus  '*  received  "  them,  or  "  welcomed  "  them, 
as  it  is  in  the  R.V.  It  is  a  favourite  word  with 
St.  Luke,  found  in  his  Gospel  more  frequently  than  in 
the  other  three  Gospels  together.  Applied  to  persons, 
it  means  nearly  always  to  receive  as  guests,  to  welcome 
to  hospitality  and  home.  And  such  is  its  meaning 
here.  Jesus  takes  the  place  of  the  host.  True,  it  is 
a  desert  place,  but  it  is  a  part  of  the  All- Father's  world, 
a  room  of  the  Father's  house,  carpeted  with  grass 
and  ablaze  with  flowers  ;  and  Jesus,  by  His  welcome, 
transforms  the  desert  into  a  guest-chamber,  where  in 
a  new  way  He  keeps  the  Passover  with  His  disciples, 
at  the  same  time  entertaining  His  thousands  of  self- 


ix.i-17.]  THE  MIRACLE  OF  THE  LOAVES,  J7| 

bidden  guests,  giving  to  them  truth,  speaking  of  the 
kingdom  of  God,  and  giving  health,  healing  ''those 
that  had  need  of  healing." 

It  was  toward  evening,  "when  the  day  began  to 
wear  away,"  that  Jesus  gave  to  a  bright  and  busy  day 
its  crowning  benediction.  The  thought  had  already 
ripened  into  purpose,  in  His  mind,  to  spread  a  table 
for  them  in  the  wilderness;  for  how  could  He,  the 
compassionate  One,  send  them  to  their  homes  famish- 
ing and  faint  ?  These  poor,  shepherdless  sheep  have 
put  themselves  into  His  care.  Their  simple,  unpro- 
viding  confidence  has  made  Him  in  a  sense  responsible, 
and  can  He  disappoint  that  confidence  ?  It  is  true 
they  have  been  thoughtless  and  improvident.  They 
have  let  the  enthusiasm  of  the  hour  carry  them  away, 
without  making  any  provision  of  the  necessary  food; 
but  even  this  does  not  check  the  flow  of  the  Divine 
compassion,  for  Jesus  proceeds  to  fill  up  their  lack  of 
thought  by  His  Divine  thoughtfulness,  and  their  scarcity 
with  His  Divine  affluence. 

According  to  St.  John,  it  was  Jesus  who  took  the 
initiative,  as  He  put  the  test-question  to  Philip, 
"  Whence  shall  we  buy  bread,  that  these  may  eat  ?  " 
Philip  does  not  reply  to  the  "whence;"  that  may  stand 
aside  awhile,  as  in  mathematical  language  he  speaks 
to  the  previous  question,  which  is  their  ability  to  buy. 
"Two  hundred  pennyworth  of  bread,"  he  said,  "is  not 
sufficient  for  them,  that  every  one  may  take  a  little." 
He  does  not  say  how  much  would  be  required  to 
satisfy  the  hunger  of  the  multitude  ;  his  reckoning  is 
not  for  a  feast,  but  for  a  taste,  to  every  one  "  a  little." 
Nor  does  he  calculate  the  full  cost  of  even  this,  but 
says  simply,  "  Two  hundred  pennyworth  would  not  be 
sufficient."    Evidently,  in  Philip's  mind  the  two  hundred 

i8 


374  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.    LUKE. 

pence  is  the  known  quantity  of  the  equation,  and  he 
works  out  his  calculation  from  that,  as  he  proves  the 
impossibility  of  buying  bread  for  this  vast  company 
anywhere.  We  may  therefore  conclude  that  the  two 
hundred  pence  represented  the  value  of  the  common 
purse,  the  purchasing  power  of  the  Apostolic  com- 
munity ;  and  this  was  a  sum  altogether  inadequate  to 
meet  the  cost  of  providing  bread  for  the  multitude. 
The  only  alternative,  as  far  as  the  disciples  see,  is  to 
dismiss  them,  and  let  them  requisition  for  themselves ; 
and  in  a  peremptory  manner  they  ask  Jesus  to  "  send 
the  multitude  away,"  reminding  Him  of  what  certainly 
they  had  no  need  to  remind  Him,  that  they  were  here 
"  in  a  desert  place." 

The  disciples  had  spoken  in  their  subjunctive,  non 
possumus,  way ;  it  is  now  time  for  Jesus  to  speak, 
which  He  does,  not  in  interrogatives  longer,  but  in  His 
imperative,  commanding  tone  :  "  Give  ye  them  to  eat," 
a  word  which  throws  the  disciples  back  upon  them- 
selves in  astonishment  and  utter  helplessness.  What 
can  they  do  ?  The  whole  available  supply,  as  Andrew 
reports  it,  is  but  five  barley  loaves  and  two  small  fishes, 
which  a  lad  has  brought,  possibly  for  their  own  refresh- 
ment. Five  flat  loaves  of  barley,  which  was  the  food 
of  the  poorest  of  the  poor,  and  "  two  small  fishes,"  as 
St.  John  calls  them,  throwing  a  bit  of  local  colouring  into 
the  narrative  by  his  diminutive  word — these  are  the 
foundation  repast,  which  Jesus  asks  to  be  brought  to 
Himself,  that  from  Himself  it  may  go,  broken  and 
enlarged,  to  the  multitude  of  guests.  Meantime  the 
crowd  is  just  as  large,  and  perhaps  more  excited  and 
impatient  than  before ;  for  they  would  not  understand 
these  "  asides  "  between  the  disciples  and  the  Master, 
nor  could   they   read   as   yet  His  compassionate  and 


Ix  1-17.]  THE  MIRACLE  OF  THE  LOAVES.  ^75 

benevolent  thought.  It  would  be  a  pushing,  jostling 
crowd,  as  these  thousands  were  massed  on  the  hill-side. 
Some  are  gathered  in  little  groups,  discussing  the 
Messiahship ;  others  are  clustered  round  some  relative 
or  friend,  who  to-day  has  been  wonderfully  healed ; 
while  others,  of  the  forward  sort,  are  selfishly  elbowing 
their  way  to  the  front.  The  whole  scene  is  a  kaleido- 
scope of  changing  form  and  colour,  a  perfect  chaos  of 
confusion.  But  Jesus  speaks  again  :  *'  Make  them  sit 
down  in  companies;"  and  those  words,  thrown  across 
the  seething  mass,  reduce  it  to  order,  crystallizing 
it,  as  it  were,  into  measured  and  numbered  lines. 
St.  Mark,  half-playfully,  likens  it  to  a  garden,  with  its 
parterres  of  flowers  ;  and  such  indeed  it  was,  but  it  was 
a  garden  of  the  higher  cult,  with  its  variegated  beds  of 
humanity,  a  hundred  men  broad,  and  fifty  deep. 

When  order  was  secured,  and  all  were  in  their  places, 
Jesus  takes  His  place  as  the  host  at  the  head  of  the 
extemporized  table,  and  though  it  is  most  frugal  fare, 
He  holds  the  barley  loaves  heavenward,  and  lifting  up 
His  eyes,  He  blesses  God,  probably  in  the  words  of 
the  usual  formula,  "Blessed  art  Thou,  Jehovah  our 
God,  King  of  the  world.  Who  causeth  to  come  forth 
bread  from  the  earth."  Then  breaking  the  bread,  He 
distributes  it  among  the  disciples,  bidding  them  bear 
it  to  the  people.  It  is  not  a  matter  of  moment  as  to 
the  exact  point  where  the  supernatural  came  in,  whether 
it  was  in  the  breaking  or  the  distributing.  Somewhere 
a  power  which  must  have  been  Divine  touched  the 
bread,  for  the  broken  pieces  strangely  grew,  enlarging 
rapidly  as  they  were  minished.  It  is  just  possible  that 
we  have  a  clue  to  the  mystery  in  the  tense  of  the  verb, 
for  the  imperfect,  which  denotes  continued  action,  would 
read,  "  He  brake,"  or  "  He  kept  on    breaking,"  from 


•76  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

which  we  might  almost  infer  that  the  miracle  was 
coincident  with  the  touch.  But  whether  so  or  not,  the 
power  was  equal  to  the  occasion,  and  the  supply  over 
and  above  the  largest  need,  completely  satisfying  the 
hunger  of  the  five  thousand  men,  besides  the  off-group 
of  women  and  children,  who,  though  left  out  of  the 
enumeration,  were  within  the  circle  of  the  miracle,  the 
remembered  and  satisfied  guests  of  the  Master. 

It  now  remains  for  us  to  gather  up  the  meaning 
and  the  practical  lessons  of  the  miracle.  And  first, 
it  reveals  to  us  the  Divine  pity.  When  Jesus  called 
Himself  the  Son  of  man  it  was  a  title  full  of  deep 
meaning,  and  most  appropriate.  He  was  the  true,  the 
ideal  Humanity,  humanity  as  it  would  have  been  with- 
out the  warps  and  discolourations  that  Sin  has  made, 
and  within  His  heart  were  untold  depths  of  sympathy, 
the  "fellow-feeling  that  makes  man  wondrous  kind." 
To  the  haughty  and  the  proud  He  was  stern,  lowering 
upon  them  with  a  withering  scorn ;  to  the  unreal,  the 
false,  the  unclean  He  was  severity  itself,  with  light- 
nings in  His  looks  and  terrible  thunders  in  His 
"woes;"  but  for  troubled  and  tired  souls  He  had 
nothing  but  tenderness  and  gentleness,  and  a  compas- 
sion that  was  infinite.  Even  had  He  not  called  the 
weary  and  heavy-laden  to  Himself,  they  would  have 
sought  Him ;  they  would  have  read  the  "  Come "  in 
the  sunlight  of  His  face.  Jesus  felt  for  others  a 
vicarious  pain,  a  vicarious  sorrow.  His  heart  respond- 
ing to  it  at  once,  as  the  delicately  poised  needle 
responds  to  the  subtle  sparks  that  flash  in  upon  it 
from  without.  So  here;  He  receives  the  multitude 
kindly,  even  though  they  are  strangers,  and  though 
they  have  thwarted  His  purpose  and  broken  in  upon 
His  rest,  and  as  this  stream  of  human  life  flows  out 


faLi-i7.]  THE  MIRACLE  OF  THE  LOAVES,  277 

to  Him  His  compassion  flows  out  to  them.  He  com- 
miserates their  forlorn  condition,  wandering  like  stray- 
ing sheep  upon  the  mountains ;  He  gives  Himself  up 
to  them,  healing  all  that  were  sick,  assuaging  the  pain 
or  restoring  the  lost  sense ;  while  at  the  same  time  He 
ministers  to  a  higher  nature,  telling  them  of  the  king- 
dom of  God,  which  had  come  nigh  to  them,  and  which 
was  theirs  if  they  would  surrender  themselves  to  it  and 
obey.  Nor  was  even  this  enough  to  satisfy  the  prompt- 
ings of  His  deep  pity,  but  all-forgetful  of  His  own 
weariness.  He  lengthens  out  this  day  of  mercy,  stay- 
ing to  minister  to  their  lower,  physical  wants,  as  He 
spreads  for  them  a  table  in  the  wilderness.  Verily  He 
was,  incarnate,  as  He  is  in  His  glory,  "  touched  with 
the  feeling  of  our  infirmities." 

Again,  we  see  the  Divine  love  of  order  and  arrange- 
ment. Nothing  was  done  until  the  crowding  and  con- 
fusion had  ceased,  and  even  the  Divine  beneficence 
waits  until  the  turbulent  mass  has  become  quiet,  settled 
down  into  serried  lines,  the  five  thousand  making  two 
perfect  squares.  "  Order,"  it  is  said,  "  is  Heaven's 
first  law ; "  but  whether  the  first  or  the  second,  certain 
it  is  that  Heaven  gives  us  the  perfection  of  order.  It 
is  only  in  the  lawless  wills  of  man  that  **  time  is  broke, 
and  no  proportion  kept."  In  the  heavenly  state  nothing 
is  out  of  place  or  out  of  time.  All  wills  there  play  into 
each  other  with  such  absolute  precision  that  life  itself 
is  a  song,  a  Gloria  in  Excelsis.  And  how  this  is  seen 
in  all  the  works  of  God  1  What  rhythmic  motions  are 
in  the  marches  of  the  stars  and  the  processions  of  the 
seasons  I  To  everything  a  place,  to  everything  a  time ; 
such  is  the  unwritten  law  of  the  realm  of  physics,  where 
Law  is  supreme,  and  anarchy  is  unknown.  So  in  our 
earthly  lives,  on   their  secular  and  on  their  spiritual 


flTt  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

side  alike,  order  is  time,  order  is  strength,  and  he  who 
is  deficient  in  this  grace  should  practise  on  it  the  more. 
Avoid  Slovenliness ;  it  is  a  distant  relation  of  Sin  itself. 
Arrange  your  duties,  and  do  not  let  them  crowd  one 
upon  the  other.  Set  the  greater  duties,  not  abreast, 
but  one  behind  the  other,  filling  up  the  spaces  with  the 
smaller  ones.  Do  not  let  things  drift,  or  your  life, 
built  for  carrying  precious  argosies,  and  accomplishing 
something,  will  break  up  into  pieces,  the  flotsam  and 
jetsam  of  a  barren  shore.  In  prayer  be  orderly. 
Arrange  your  desires.  Let  some  come  first,  while 
others  stand  back  in  the  second  or  the  third  row,  wait- 
ing their  turn.  If  your  relations  with  your  fellows  have 
got  a  little  disarranged,  atwist,  seek  to  readjust  the 
disturbed  relation.  Oppose  what  is  evil  and  mean  with 
all  your  might ;  but  if  no  principle  is  involved,  even  at 
the  cost  of  a  little  feeling,  seek  to  have  things  put 
square.  To  get  things  into  a  tangle  requires  no  great 
skill ;  but  he  who  would  be  a  true  artist,  keeping  the 
Divine  pattern  before  him,  and  ever  working  towards 
it,  if  not  up  to  it,  may  reduce  the  tangled  skein  to 
harmony,  and  like  the  Gobelin  tapestry-makers,  weave 
a  life  that  is  noble  and  beautiful,  a  life  on  which  men 
will  love  to  gaze. 

Again,  we  see  the  Divine  concern  for  little  things. 
Abundance  always  tempts  to  extravagance  and  waste. 
And  so  here  ;  the  broken  remnants  of  the  repast  might 
have  been  thrown  away  as  of  no  account ;  but  Jesus 
bade  them,  *'  Gather  up  the  fragments,  that  nothing  be 
lost ; "  and  we  read  they  filled  with  the  broken  bread, 
which  remained  over  and  above  to  them  that  had  eaten, 
twelve  baskets  full — and,  by  the  way,  the  word  rendered 
"  basket "  here  corresponds  with  the  frugal  fare,  for, 
made  of  willow  or  of  wicker,  it  was  of  the  coarsest 


u.  I-I7.]  THE  MIRACLE  OF  THE  LOAVES.  279 

kind,  used  only  by  the  poor.  What  became  of  the 
fragments,  which  outweighed  the  original  supply,  we 
do  not  read  ;  but  though  they  were  only  the  crumbs  of 
the  Divine  bounty,  and  though  there  was  no  present 
use  for  them,  Jesus  would  not  allow  them  to  be  wasted. 
But  the  true  meaning  of  the  narrative  lies  deeper  than 
this.  It  is  a  miracle  of  a  new  order,  this  multiplying 
of  the  loaves.  In  His  other  miracles  Jesus  has  wrought 
on  the  hne  of  Nature,  accelerating  her  slower  processes, 
and  accomplishing  in  an  instant,  by  His  mere  volition, 
what  by  natural  causes  must  have  been  the  work  of 
time,  but  which  in  the  specific  cases  would  have  been 
purely  impossible,  owing  to  the  enfeeblement  of  nature 
by  disease.  Sight,  hearing,  even  life  itself,  come  to 
man  through  channels  purely  natural;  but  Nature 
never  yet  has  made  bread.  She  grows  the  corn,  but 
there  her  part  ends,  while  Science  must  do  the  rest, 
first  reducing  the  corn  to  flour,  then  kneading  it  into 
dough,  and  by  the  burning  fires  of  the  oven  transmuting 
the  dough  to  bread.  Why  does  Jesus  here  depart 
from  His  usual  order,  creating  what  neither  nature  nor 
science  can  produce  alone,  but  which  requires  their  con- 
current forces  ?  Let  us  see.  To  Jesus  these  visible, 
tangible  things  were  but  the  dead  keys  His  hand 
touched,  as  He  called  forth  some  deeper,  farther-off 
music,  some  spiritual  truth  that  by  any  other  method 
men  would  be  slow  to  learn.  Of  what,  then,  is  this 
bread  of  the  desert  the  emblem?  St.  John  tells  us 
that  when  the  miracle  occurred  "  the  Passover  was 
nigh  at  hand,"  and  this  time-mark  helps  to  explain 
the  overcrowding  into  the  desert,  for  probably  many 
of  the  five  thousand  were  men  who  were  now  on  their 
way  to  Jerusalem,  and  who  had  stayed  at  Capernaum 
and  the  neighbouring  cities  for  the  night.     This  sup- 


ste  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

position,  too,  is  considerably  strengthened  by  the  words 
of  the  disciples,  as  they  suggest  that  they  should  go 
and  "  lodge "  in  the  neighbouring  cities  and  villages, 
which  word  implies  that  they  were  not  residents  of  that 
locality,  but  passing  strangers.  And  as  Jesus  cannot 
now  go  up  to  Jerusalem  to  the  feast.  He  gathers  the 
shepherdless  thousands  about  Him,  and  keeps  a  sort  of 
Passover  in  the  open  guest-chamber  of  the  mountain- 
side. That  such  was  the  thought  of  the  Master,  making 
it  an  anterior  sacrament,  is  evident  from  the  address 
Jesus  gave  the  following  day  at  Capernaum,  in  which 
He  passes,  by  a  natural  transition,  from  the  broken 
bread  with  which  He  satisfied  their  physical  hunger 
to  Himself  as  the  Bread  come  down  from  heaven,  the 
"  Hving  Bread  "  as  He  called  it,  which  was  His  flesh. 
There  is  thus  a  Eucharistic  meaning  in  the  miracle  of 
the  loaves,  and  this  northern  hill  signals  in  its  subtle 
correspondences  on  to  Jerusalem,  to  another  hill,  where 
His  body  was  bruised  and  broken  "  for  our  iniquities,** 
and  His  blood  was  poured  out,  a  precious  oblation  for 
sin.  And  as  that  Blood  was  typified  by  the  wine  of 
the  first  miracle  at  Cana,  so  now  Jesus  completes  the 
prophetic  sacrament  by  the  miraculous  creation  of 
bread  from  the  five  seminal  loaves,  bread  which  He 
Himself  has  consecrated  to  the  holier  use,  as  the  visible 
emblem  of  that  Body  which  was  given  for  us,  men, 
women,  and  children  alike,  even  for  a  redeemed 
humanity.  Cana  and  the  desert-place  tnus  draw  near 
together,  while  both  look  across  to  Calvary;  and  as 
the  Church  keeps  now  her  Eucharistic  feast,  taking 
from  the  one  the  consecrated  bread,  and  from  the  other 
the  consecrated  wine,  she  shows  forth  the  Lord's  death 
"  till  He  come." 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE   TRANSFIGURATION, 

THE  Transfiguration  of  Christ  marks  the  culmina- 
ting point  in  the  Divine  life ;  the  few  remaining 
months  are  a  rapid  descent  into  the  Valley  of  Sacrifice 
and  Death.  The  story  is  told  by  each  of  the  three 
Synoptists,  with  an  almost  equal  amount  of  detail,  and 
all  agree  as  to  the  time  when  it  occurred ;  for  though 
St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  make  the  interval  six  days, 
while  St.  Luke  speaks  of  it  as  *' about  eight,"  there  is 
no  real  disagreement ;  St.  Luke's  reckoning  is  inclusive. 
As  to  the  locality,  too,  they  all  agree,  though  in  a 
certain  indefinite  way.  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark 
leave  it  indeterminate,  simply  saying  that  it  was  ''a 
high  mountain,"  while  St.  Luke  calls  it  "  the  mountain." 
Tradition  has  long  localised  the  scene  upon  Mount 
Tabor,  but  evidently  she  has  read  off  her  bearings 
from  her  own  fancies,  rather  than  from  the  facts  of  the 
narrative.  To  say  nothing  of  the  distance  of  Mount 
Tabor  from  Caesarea  Philippi — which,  though  a  diffi- 
culty, is  not  an  insuperable  one,  since  it  might  easily 
be  covered  in  less  than  the  six  intervening  days — 
Tabor  is  but  one  of  the  group  of  heights  which  fringe 
the  Plain  of  Esdraelon,  and  so  one  to  which  the 
definite  article  would  not,  and  could  not,  be  applied. 
Besides,  Tabor  now  was  crowned  by  a  Roman  fortress, 


282  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

and  so  could  scarcely  be  said  to  be  "  apart  **  from  the 
strifes  and  ways  of  men,  while  it  stood  within  the 
borders  of  Galilee,  whereas  St.  Mark,  by  implication, 
sets  his  *'  high  mountain  "  outside  the  Galilean  bounds 
(ix.  30).  But  if  Tabor  fails  to  meet  the  requirements 
of  the  narrative.  Mount  Hermon  answers  them  exactly, 
throwing  its  spurs  close  up  to  Caesarea  Philippi,  while 
its  snow-crowned  peak  shone  out  pure  and  white  above 
the  lesser  heights  of  Galilee. 

It  is  not  an  unmeaning  coincidence  that  each  of  the 
Evangelists  should  introduce  his  narrative  with  the  same 
temporal  word,  **  after."  That  word  is  something  more 
than  a  connecting-link,  a  bridge  thrown  over  a  blank 
space  of  days ;  it  is  rather,  when  taken  in  connection 
with  the  preceding  narrative,  the  key  which  unlocks 
the  whole  meaning  and  mystery  of  the  Transfiguration. 
"  After  these  sayings,"  writes  St.  Luke.  What  sayings  ? 
Let  us  go  back  a  little,  and  see.  Jesus  had  asked  His 
disciples  as  to  the  drift  of  popular  opinion  about 
Himself,  and  had  drawn  from  Peter  the  memorable 
confession — that  first  Apostle's  Creed — "  Thou  art  the 
Christ  of  God."  Immediately,  however,  Jesus  leads 
down  their  minds  from  these  celestial  heights  to  the 
lowest  depths  of  degradation,  dishonour,  and  death,  as 
He  says,  "  The  Son  of  man  must  suffer  many  things, 
and  be  rejected  of  the  elders,  chief  priests,  and  scribes, 
and  be  killed,  and  the  third  day  be  raised  up."  Those 
words  shattered  their  bright  dream  at  once.  Like 
some  fearful  nightmare,  the  foreshadow  of  the  cross 
fell  upon  their  hearts,  filling  them  with  fear,  and  gloom, 
and  striking  down  hope,  and  courage,  yea,  even  faith 
itself.  It  would  almost  seem  as  if  the  disciples  were 
unnerved,  paralyzed  by  the  blow,  and  as  if  an  atrophy 
had  stolen  over  their  hearts   and  lips  alike ;  for  the 


THE  TRANSFIGURATION.  383 

next  six  days  are  one  void  of  silence,  without  word  or 
deed,  as  far  as  the  records  show.  How  shall  their 
lost  hope  be  recalled,  or  courage  be  revived?  How 
shall  they  be  taught  that  death  does  not  end  all — 
^hat  the  enigma  was  true  of  Himself,  as  well  as  of 
them,  that  He  shall  find  His  life  by  losing  it  ?  The 
Transfiguration  is  the  answer. 

Taking  with  Him  Peter,  John,  and  James — the  three 
who  shall  yet  be  witnesses  of  His  agony — Jesus  retires 
to  the  mountain  height,  probably  intending,  as  our 
Evangelist  indicates,  to  spend  the  night  in  prayer. 
Keeping  the  midnight  watch  was  nothing  new  to  these 
disciples;  it  was  their  frequent  experience  upon  the 
Galilean  lake ;  but  now,  left  to  the  quiet  of  their  own 
thoughts,  and  with  none  of  the  excitements  of  the 
spoil  about  them,  they  yield  to  the  cravings  of  nature 
and  fall  asleep.  Awaking,  they  find  their  Master  still 
engaged  in  prayer,  all  oblivious  of  earthly  hours,  and 
as  they  watch  He  is  transfigured  before  them.  The 
fashion,  or  appearance,  of  His  countenance,  as  St.  Luke 
tersely  puts  it,  "  became  another,"  all  suffused  with  a 
heavenly  radiance,  while  His  very  garments  became 
lustrous  with  a  whiteness  which  was  beyond  the 
fuller's  art  and  beyond  the  whiteness  of  the  snow,  and 
all  iridescent,  flashing  and  sparkling  as  if  set  with 
stars.  Suddenly,  ere  their  eyes  have  grown  accustomed 
to  the  new  splendours,  two  celestial  visitants  appear, 
wearing  the  glorious  body  of  the  heavenly  life  and 
conversing  with  Jesus. 

Such  was  the  scene  upon  the  "holy  mount,"  which 
the  Apostles  could  never  forget,  and  which  St.  Petei 
recalls  with  a  lingering  wonder  and  delight  in  the  far- 
oflf  after-years  (2  Pet.  i.  18).  Can  we  push  aside  the 
outward  draperies,  and  read    the  Divine  thought  and 


s84  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

purpose  that  are  hidden  within  ?    We  think  we  may. 
And— 

I.  We  see  the  place  and  meaning  of  the  Transfigura- 
tion in  the  life  of  Jesus.  Hitherto  the  humanity  of  Jesus 
had  been  naturally  and  perfectly  human  ;  for  though 
heavenly  signs  have,  as  at  the  Advent  and  the  Baptism, 
borne  witness  to  its  super-humanity,  these  signs  have 
been  temporary  and  external,  shining  or  alighting  upon 
it  from  without  Now,  however,  the  sign  is  from  within. 
The  brightness  of  the  outer  flesh  is  but  the  outshining 
of  the  inner  glory.  And  what  was  that  glory  but  the 
"glory  of  the  Lord,"  a  manifestation  of  the  Deity, 
that  fulness  of  the  Godhead  which  dwelt  within  ?  The 
faces  of  other  sons  of  men  have  shone,  as  when  Moses 
stepped  downwards  from  the  mount,  or  as  Stephen 
looked  upwards  to  the  opened  heavens  ;  but  it  was  the 
shining  of  a  reflected  glory,  Hke  the  sunlight  upon  the 
moon.  But  when  the  humanity  of  Jesus  was  thus 
transfigured  it  was  a  native  glory,  the  inward  radiance 
of  the  soul  stealing  through,  and  lighting  up,  the  en- 
veloping globe  of  human  flesh.  It  is  easy  to  see  why 
this  celestial  appearance  should  not  be  the  normal 
manifestation  of  the  Christ ;  for  had  it  been.  He  would 
no  longer  have  been  the  "  Son  of  man."  Between 
Himself  and  the  humanity  He  had  come  to  redeem 
would  have  been  a  gulf  wide  and  profound,  while 
the  Fatherhood  of  God  would  have  been  a  truth  lying 
back  in  the  vistas  of  the  unknown,  a  truth  unfelt ;  for 
men  only  reach  up  to  that  Fatherhood  through  the 
Brotherhood  of  Christ.  But  if  we  ask  why  now,  just 
for  once,  there  should  be  this  transfiguring  of  the  Person 
of  Jesus,  the  answer  is  not  so  evident.  Godet  has  a 
suggestion  which  is  as  natural  as  it  is  beautiful.  He 
represents  the  Transfiguration  as  the  natural  issue  of 


THE  TRANSFIGURATION.  385 

a  perfect,  a  sinless  life,  a  life  in  which  death  should 
have  no  place,  as  it  would  have  had  no  place  in  the 
life  of  unfallen  man.  Innocence,  holiness,  glory — 
these  would  have  been  the  successive  steps  connecting 
earth  with  heaven,  an  ever-upward  path,  across  which 
death  would  not  even  have  cast  a  shadow.  Such 
would  have  been  the  path  opened  to  the  first  Adam, 
had  not  Sin  intervened,  bringing  Death  as  its  wage 
and  penalty.  And  now,  as  the  Second  Adam  takes 
the  place  of  the  first,  moving  steadily  along  the  path 
of  obedience  from  which  the  first  Adam  swerved, 
should  we  not  naturally  look  for  that  life  to  end  in  some 
translation  or  transfiguration,  the  body  of  the  earthly 
life  blossoming  into  the  body  of  the  heavenly  ?  and 
where  else  so  appropriately  as  here,  upon  the  "holy 
mount,''  when  the  spirits  of  the  perfected  come  forth 
to  meet  Him,  and  the  chariot  of  cloud  is  ready  to  convey 
Him  to  the  heavens  which  are  so  near?  It  is  thus 
something  more  than  conjecture — it  is  a  probability — that 
had  the  life  of  Jesus  been  by  itself,  detached  from  man- 
kind in  general,  the  Transfiguration  had  been  the  mode 
and  the  beginning  of  the  glorification.  The  way  to  the 
heavens,  from  which  He  was  self-exiled,  was  open  to 
Him  from  the  mount  of  glory,  but  He  preferred  to  pass 
up  by  the  mount  of  passion  and  of  sacrifice.  The 
burden  of  the  world's  redemption  is  upon  Him,  and 
that  eternal  purpose  leads  Him  down  from  the  Trans- 
figuration glories,  and  onwards  to  a  cross  and  grave. 
He  chooses  to  die,  with  and  for  man,  rather  than  to  live 
and  reign  without  man. 

But  not  only  does  the  "  holy  mount "  throw  its  light 
on  what  would  have  been  the  path  of  unfallen  man,  it 
gives  us  in  prophecy  a  vision  of  the  resurrection  life. 
Compare  the    picture   of  the    transfigured    Christ,    aft 


286  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

drawn  by  the  Synoptists,  with  the  picture,  drawn  by 
John  himself,  of  the  Christ  of  the  Exaltation,  and  how 
strikingly  similar  they  are  I  (Rev.  L  13-17).  In  both 
descriptions  we  have  an  affluence  of  metaphor  and 
simile,  which  affluence  was  itself  but  the  stammering 
of  our  weak  human  speech,  as  it  seeks  to  tell  the 
unutterable.  In  both  we  have  a  whiteness  like  the 
snow,  while  to  portray  the  countenance  St.  John  re- 
peats almost  verbatim  St.  Matthew's  words,  "  His  face 
did  shine  as  the  sun."  Evidently  the  Christ  of  the 
Transfiguration  and  the  Christ  of  the  Exaltation  are 
one  and  the  same  Person  ;  and  why  do  we  blame  Peter 
for  speaking  in  such  random,  delirious  words  upon  the 
mount,  when  John,  by  the  glory  of  that  same  vision,  in 
Patmos,  is  stricken  to  the  ground  as  if  dead,  not  able 
to  speak  at  all  ?  When  Peter  spoke,  somewhat  inco- 
herently, about  the  *'  three  tabernacles,"  it  was  not,  as 
some  aver,  the  random  speech  of  one  who  was  but  half 
awake,  but  of  one  whose  reason  was  dazzled  and  con- 
fused with  the  blinding  glory.  And  so  the  Transfigura- 
tion anticipates  the  Glorification,  investing  the  sacred 
Person  with  those  same  robes  of  light  and  royalty  He 
had  laid  aside  for  a  time,  but  which  He  will  shortly 
assume  again — the  habihments  of  an  eternal  re- 
enthronement. 

2.  Again,  the  holy  mount  shows  us  the  place  of 
death  in  the  life  of  man.  We  read,  "  There  talked  with 
Him  two  men,  which  were  Moses  and  Elijah ; "  and  as 
if  the  Evangelist  would  emphasize  the  fact  that  it  was 
no  apparition,  existing  only  in  their  heated  imagination, 
he  repeats  the  statement  (ver.  35)  that  they  were  "  two 
men."  Strange  gathering— Moses,  Elias,  and  Christ ! — 
the  Law  in  the  person  of  Moses,  the  Prophets  in  the 
person  of  Elias,  both  doing  homage  to  the  Christ,  who 


THE   TRANSFIGURATION, 


was  Himself  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy  and  law.  But 
what  the  Evangelist  seems  to  note  particularly  is  the 
humanness  of  the  two  celestials.  Though  the  earthly 
life  of  each  ended  in  an  abrupt,  unearthly  way,  the  one 
having  a  translation,  the  other  a  Divine  interment 
(whatever  that  may  mean),  they  have  both  been  resi- 
dents of  the  heavenly  world  for  centuries.  But  as  they 
appear  to-day  "  in  glory,"  that  is,  with  the  glorified 
body  of  the  heavenly  life,  outwardly,  visibly,  their 
bodies  are  still  human.  There  is  nothing  about  their 
form  and  build  that  is  grotesque,  or  even  unearthly. 
They  have  not  even  the  traditional  but  fictitious  wings 
with  which  poetry  is  wont  to  set  off  the  inhabitants  of 
the  sky.  They  are  still  "  men,"  with  bodies  resembling, 
both  in  size  and  form,  the  old  body  of  earth.  But  if  the 
appearance  of  these  "  men  "  reminds  us  of  earth,  if  we 
wait  awhile,  we  see  that  their  natures  are  very  unearthly, 
not  unnatural  so  much  as  supernatural.  They  glide 
down  through  the  air  with  the  ease  of  a  bird  and  the 
swiftness  of  light,  and  when  the  interview  ends,  and 
they  go  their  separate  ways,  these  heavenly  "men** 
gather  up  their  robes  and  vanish,  strangely  and  sud- 
denly as  they  came.  And  yet  they  can  make  use  of 
earthly  supports,  even  the  grosser  forms  of  matter, 
planting  their  feet  upon  the  grass  as  naturally  as 
when  Moses  climbed  up  Pisgah  or  as  Elijah  stood  in 
Horeb's  cave. 

And  not  only  do  the  bodies  of  these  celestials  retain 
still  the  image  of  the  earthly  life,  but  the  bent  of  their 
minds  is  the  same,  the  set  and  drift  of  their  thoughts 
following  the  old  directions.  The  earthly  Hves  of  Moses 
and  Elias  had  been  spent  in  different  lands,  in  different 
times;  five  hundred  eventful  years  pushed  them  far 
apart;   but  their  mission  had  been   one.     Both  were 


t88  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

prophets  of  the  Highest,  the  one  bringing  God's  law 
down  to  the  people,  the  other  leading  a  lapsed  people 
back  and  up  to  God's  law.  Yes,  and  they  are  prophets 
still,  but  with  a  nearer  vision  now.  Mo  longer  do  they 
gaze  through  the  crimson  lenses  of  the  sacrificial 
blood,  beholding  the  Promised  One  afar  off.  They 
have  read  the  Divine  thought  and  purpose  of  redemp- 
tion ;  they  are  initiated  into  its  mysteries ;  and  now 
that  the  cross  is  close  at  hand,  they  come  to  bring 
to  the  world's  Saviour  their  heavenly  greetings,  and  tc 
invest  Him,  by  anticipation,  with  robes  of  glory,  soon 
to  be  His  for  evermore. 

Such  is  the  apocalypse  of  the  holy  mount.  The 
veil  which  hides  from  our  dull  eye  of  sense  the  here- 
after was  lifted  up.  The  heavens  were  opened  to  them, 
no  longer  far  away  beyond  the  cold  stars,  but  near 
them,  touching  them  on  every  side.  They  saw  the 
saints  of  other  days  interesting  themselves  in  earthly 
events — in  one  event  at  least,  and  speaking  of  that 
death  which  they  mourned  and  feared,  calmly,  as  a 
thing  expected  and  desired,  but  calKng  it  by  its  new 
and  softened  name,  a  '* departure,"  an  "exodus."  And 
as  they  see  the  past  centuries  saluting  Him  whom  they 
have  learned  to  call  the  Christ,  "  the  Son  of  God,"  as 
the  truth  of  immortality  is  borne  in  upon  them,  not  as 
a  vague  conception  of  the  mind,  but  by  oral  and  ocular 
demonstration,  would  they  not  see  the  shadow  of  the 
coming  death  in  a  different  light  ?  would  not  the  painful 
pressure  upon  their  spirits  be  eased  somewhat,  if  not, 
indeed,  entirely  removed  ?  and — 

"  The  Apostles'  heart  of  rock 
Be  nerved  against  temptation's  shock  "  ? 

Would  they  not  more  patiently  endure,  now  that  th^y 


THE  TRANSFIGURATION,  a^ 

had  become  apostles  of  the  Invisible,  seers  of  the 
Unseen  ? 

But  if  the  glory  of  the  holy  mount  sets  in  a  fairer 
light  the  cross  and  grave  of  Christ,  may  we  not  throw 
from  the  mirror  of  our  thought  some  of  its  light  upon 
our  lowlier  graves  ?  What  is  death,  after  all,  but  the 
transition  into  life  ?  Retaining  its  earthly  accent,  we 
call  it  a  "  decease  ; "  but  that  is  true  only  of  the  corporeal 
nature,  that  body  of  "  flesh  and  blood  "  which  cannot 
inherit  the  higher  kingdom  of  glory  to  which  we  pass. 
There  is  no  break  in  the  continuity  of  the  soul's  exis- 
tence, not  even  one  parenthetic  hour.  When  He  who 
was  the  Resurrection  and  t^e  Life  said,  "  To-day  shalt 
thou  be  with  Me  in  paradise,"  that  word  passed  on  a 
forgiven  soul  directly  to  a  state  of  conscious  blessed- 
ness. From  "  the  azure  deep  of  air "  does  the  eagle 
look  regretfully  upon  the  eyrie  of  its  crag,  where  it  lay 
in  its  unflede:ed  weakness  ?  or  does  it  mourn  the  broken 
shell  from  which  its  young  life  emerged  ?  And  why 
should  ^f  ^ourn,  or  weep  with  unrestrained  tears, 
when  the  snell  is  broken  that  the  freed  spirit  may  soar 
up  to  the  regions  of  the  blessed,  and  range  the  eterni- 
ties of  God  ?  Paganism  closed  the  story  of  human 
life  with  an  interrogation-point,  and  sought  to  fill  up 
with  guesses  the  blank  she  did  not  know.  Christianity 
speaks  with  clearer  voice ;  hers  is  *^  a  sure  and  certain 
hope,"  for  He  who  *' hath  aboHshed  death"  hath 
*'  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light."  Earth's  exodus 
is  heaven's  genesis,  and  what  we  call  the  end  celestials 
call  the  beginning. 

And  not  only  does  the  mount  speak  of  the  certainties 
of  the  after-life,  it  gives,  m  a  binocular  vision,  the 
likeness  of  the  resurrection  body,  answering,  in  part, 
the  standing  question,  "  How  are  the  dead  raised  up  ?** 

19 


S90  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

The  body  of  the  heavenly  life  must  have  some  corre- 
spondence with,  and  resemblance  to,  the  body  of  our 
earthly  life.  It  will,  in  a  sense,  grow  out  of  it.  It 
will  not  be  something  entirely  new,  but  the  old  refined, 
spiritualized,  the  dross  and  earthliness  all  removed, 
the  marks  of  care,  and  pain,  and  sin  all  wiped  out.  And 
more,  the  Transfiguration  mount  gives  us  indubitable 
proof  that  heaven  and  earth  lie,  virtually,  close  together, 
and  that  the  so-called  *'  departed "  are  not  entirely 
severed  from  earthly  things ;  they  can  still  read  the 
shadows  upon  earthly  dials,  and  hear  the  strike  of 
earthly  hours.  They  are  not  so  absorbed  and  lost  in 
the  new  glories  as  to  take  no  note  of  earthly  events ; 
nor  are  they  restrained  from  visiting,  at  permitted 
times,  the  earth  they  have  not  wholly  left ;  for  as  heaven 
was  theirs,  when  on  earth,  in  hope  and  anticipation, 
so  now,  in  heaven,  earth  is  theirs  in  thought  and 
memory.  They  have  still  interests  here,  associations 
they  cannot  forget,  friends  who  are  still  beloved,  and 
harvests  of  influence  they  still  may  reap.  With  the 
absurdities  and  follies  of  so-called  Spiritualism  we  have 
no  sort  of  sympathy ;  they  are  the  vagaries  of  weak 
minds ;  but  even  their  eccentricities  and  excesses  shall 
not  be  allowed  to  rob  us  of  what  is  a  truly  Christian 
hope,  that  they  who  cared  for  us  on  earth  care  for  us 
still,  and  that  they  who  loved  and  prayed  for  us  below 
love  us  none  the  less,  and  pray  for  us  none  the  less 
frequently,  now  that  the  conflict  with  them  is  over, 
and  the  eternal  rest  begun.  And  why  may  not  their 
spirits  touch  ours,  influencing  our  mind  and  heart,  even 
when  we  are  not  conscious  whence  those  influences 
come  ?  for  are  they  not,  with  the  angels,  "  ministering 
spirits,  sent  forth  to  do  service  for  the  sake  of  them 
that  shall  inherit  salvation  "  ?    The  Mount  of  Trans- 


THE   TRANSFIGURATION,  «9i 

figuration  does  indeed  stand  "  apart,"  for  on  its  summit 
the  paths  of  the  celestials  and  of  the  terrestrials  meet 
and  merge ;  and  it  is  "  high  "  indeed,  for  it  touches 
heaven. 

3.  Again,  the  holy  mount  shows  us  the  place  of 
death  in  the  life  of  Jesus.  How  long  the  vision  lasted 
we  cannot  tell,  but  in  all  probability  the  interview  was 
but  brief.  What  supreme  moments  they  were !  and 
what  a  rush  of  tumultuous  thoughts,  we  may  suppose, 
would  fill  the  minds  of  the  two  saints,  as  they  stand 
again  on  the  familiar  earth  !  But  listen  I  They  speak 
no  word  to  revive  the  old-time  memories ;  they  bring 
no  tidings  of  the  heavenly  world ;  they  do  not  even 
ask,  as  they  well  might,  the  thousand  questions  con- 
cerning His  life  and  ministry.  They  think,  they  speak, 
of  one  thing  only,  the  "  decease  which  He  was  about 
to  accomplish  at  Jerusalem."  Here,  then,  we  see  the 
drift  of  heavenly  minds,  and  here  we  learn  a  truth 
which  is  wonderfully  true,  that  the  death  of  Jesus,  the 
cross  of  Jesus^  was  the  one  central  thought  of  heaven, 
as  it  is  the  one  central  hope  of  earth.  But  how  can  it 
be  such  if  the  life  of  Jesus  is  all  we  need,  and  if  the 
death  is  but  an  ordinary  death,  an  appendix,  necessary 
indeed,  but  unimportant  ?  Such  is  the  belief  of  some, 
but  such  certainly  is  not  the  teaching  of  this  narrative, 
nor  of  the  other  Scriptures.  Heaven  sets  the  cross  of 
Jesus  "  in  the  midst,"  the  one  central  fact  of  history. 
He  was  born  that  He  might  die;  He  lived  that  He 
might  die.  All  the  lines  of  His  human  hfe  converge 
upon  Calvary,  as  He  Himself  said,  "For  unto  this 
hour  came  I  into  the  world."  And  why  is  that  death 
so  all-important,  bending  towards  its  cross  all  the  lines 
of  Scripture,  as  it  now  monopolizes  the  speech  of  these 
two    celestials  ?     Why  ?     There   is   but    one   answer 


292  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

which  is  satisfactory,  the  answer  St  Peter  himself 
gives :  "  His  own  Self  bare  our  sins  in  His  body  upon 
the  tree,  that  we,  having  died  unto  sins,  might  live  unto 
righteousness  "  (l  Pet.  ii.  24).  And  so  the  Mount  of 
Transfiguration  looks  towards  the  Mount  of  Sacrifice. 
It  lights  up  Calvary,  and  lays  a  wreath  of  glory  upon 
the  cross. 

We  need  not  speak  again  of  Peter's  random  words, 
as  he  seeks  to  detain  the  celestial  visitants.  He  would 
fain  prolong  what  to  him  is  a  Feast  of  Tabernacles, 
and  he  suggests  the  building  of  three  booths  upon 
the  mountain  slope — *'  one  for  Thee,"  putting  his  Lord 
first,  "and  one  for  Moses,  and  one  for  Elias."  He 
makes  no  mention  of  himself  or  of  his  companions. 
He  is  content  to  remain  outside,  so  that  he  may  only 
be  near,  as  it  were  on  the  fringe  of  the  transfiguring 
glories.  But  what  a  strange  request  I  what  wander- 
ing, delirious  words,  almost  enough  to  make  celestials 
smile  I  Well  might  the  Evangelist  excuse  Peter's 
random  words  by  saying,  "  Not  knowing  what  he  said." 
But  if  Peter  gets  no  answer  to  his  request,  and  if  he  is 
not  permitted  to  build  the  tabernacles.  Heaven  spreads 
over  the  group  its  canopy  of  cloud,  that  Shekinah- 
cloud  whose  very  shadow  was  brightness ;  while  once 
again,  as  at  the  Baptism,  a  Voice  speaks  out  of  the 
cloud,  the  voice  of  the  Father :  "  This  is  My  Son,  My 
Chosen ;  hear  ye  Him."  And  so  the  mountain  pageant 
fades ;  for  when  the  cloud  has  passed  away  Moses  and 
Elias  have  disappeared,  "Jesus  only"  is  left  with  the 
three  disciples.  Then  they  retrace  their  steps  down 
the  mountain  side,  the  three  carrying  in  their  heart  a 
precious  memory,  the  strains  of  a  lingering  music, 
which  they  only  put  into  words  when  the  Son  of  man 
is  risen  from  the  dead ;  while  Jesus  turns,  not  reluc- 


THE  TRANSFIGURATION,  393 

tantly,  from  the  opened  door  and  the  welcome  of 
Heaven,  to  make  an  atonement  upon  Calvary,  and 
through  the  veil  of  His  rent  flesh  to  make  a  way  for 
sinful  man  even  into  the  Holiest 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN. 

hVKM.  X.  25.37. 

IT  would  scarcely  have  accorded  with  the  traditions 
of  human  nature  had  the  teachers  of  religion  looked 
favourably  upon  Jesus.  Stepping,  as  He  did,  within 
their  domain,  without  any  human  ordination  or  scho- 
lastic authority,  they  naturally  resented  the  intrusion, 
and  when  the  teaching  of  the  new  Rabbi  so  distinctly 
contravened  their  own  interpretation  of  the  law  their 
curiosity  deepened  into  jealousy,  and  curdled  at  last 
into  a  virulent  hate.  The  ecclesiastical  atmosphere 
was  charged  with  electricity,  but  it  only  manifested 
itself  at  first  in  the  harmless  play  of  summer  lightning, 
the  cross-fire  of  half-earnest  and  half-captious  ques- 
tions; later  it  was  the  forked  lightning  that  struck 
him  down  into  a  grave. 

We  have  no  means  of  localizing,  either  in  point  of 
time  or  place,  the  incident  here  recorded  by  our  Evan- 
gelist, and  which,  by  the  way,  only  St.  Luke  mentions. 
It  stands  by  itself,  bearing  in  its  dependent  parable  of 
the  Good  Samaritan  an  exquisite  and  perfect  flower, 
from  whose  deep  cup  has  dropped  the  very  nectar  ol 
the  gods. 

It  was  probably  during  one  of  His  public  discourses 
that  a  "  certain  lawyer,"  or  scribe — for  the  two  titles 


«-«5-37.]  THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN,  295 

are  used  interchangeably — "stood  up  and  tempted 
Him."  He  sought  to  prove  Him  by  questions,  as  the 
word  means  here,  hoping  to  entrap  Jesus  amid  the 
vagaries  of  Rabbinical  tradition.  "  Teacher/'  said  he, 
hiding  his  sinister  motive  behind  a  veil  of  courtesy  and 
apparent  candour,  "what  shall  I  do  to  inherit  eternal 
life?"  Had  the  question  been  sincere,  Jesus  would 
probably  have  given  a  direct  answer ;  but  reading  the 
under-current  of  his  thought,  which  moved  transversely  to 
the  surface-current  of  his  speech,  Jesus  simply  answered 
his  question  by  asking  another :  "  What  is  written  in  the 
Law  ?  How  readest  thou  ?  "  With  a  readiness  which 
implied  a  perfect  familiarity  with  the  Law,  he  replied, 
"Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart, 
and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength,  and  with 
all  thy  mind;  and  thy  neighbour  as  thyself."  Some 
expositors  have  thought  that  the  Evangelist  here  gives 
the  summary  of  what  was  a  lengthened  conversation, 
and  that  Jesus  Himself  led  the  mind  of  the  lawyer  to 
join  together  these  detached  portions  of  Scripture — one 
from  Deuteronomy  vi.  5,  and  the  other  from  Leviticus 
xix.  1 8.  It  is  true  there  is  a  striking  resemblance  between 
the  answer  of  the  lawyer  and  the  answer  Jesus  Himself 
gave  subsequently  to  a  similar  question  (Mark  xii.  30, 
31);  but  there  is  no  necessity  for  us  to  apologize  for 
the  resemblance,  as  if  it  were  improbable  and  unnatural. 
The  fact  is,  as  the  narrative  of  Mark  xii.  plainly  indi- 
cates, that  these  two  sentences  were  held  in  general 
consent  as  the  epitome  of  the  Law,  its  first  and  its 
second  commandment.  Even  the  scribe  assents  to  this 
as  an  axiomatic  truth  he  has  no  wish  to  challenge^  It 
will  be  observed  that  a  fourth  term  is  added  to  the  three 
of  the  original,  possibly  on  account  of  the  Septuagint 
rendering,  which  translated  the  Hebrew  "heart"  by 


296  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE, 

"  mind."  Godet  suggests  that  since  the  term  "  heart  ** 
is  the  most  general  term,  denoting  "in  Scripture  the 
central  focus  from  which  all  the  rays  of  the  moral  life 
go  forth,"  that  it  stands  in  apposition  to  the  other  three, 
the  one  in  its  three  particulars.  This,  which  is  the  most 
natural  interpretation,  would  refer  the  "  mind  "  to  the 
intellectual  faculties,  the  **  soul "  to  the  emotional  facul- 
ties, the  sensibilities,  and  the  "  might "  to  the  will,  which 
rules  all  force ;  while  by  the  "  heart "  is  meant  the  unit, 
the  "  centred  self,"  into  which  the  others  merge,  and  of 
which  they  form  a  part. 

Jesus  commended  him  for  his  answer :  *'  Thou  hast 
answered  right :  this  do,  and  thou  shalt  live  " — words 
which  brushed  away  completely  the  Hebraic  figment  of 
inherited  life.  That  life  was  not  something  that  should 
be  reached  by  processes  of  loving.  The  life  should 
precede  the  love,  and  should  give  birth  to  it :  the  love 
should  grow  out  of  the  life,  its  blossoming  flower. 

Having  the  tables  so  turned  upom  himself,  and 
wishing  to  "justify,"  or  to  put  himself  right,  the 
stranger  asks  still  another  question  :  "And  who  is  my 
neighbour?"  doubtless  hoping  to  cover  his  retreat  in 
the  smoke  of  a  burning  question.  To  our  minds,  made 
famihar  with  the  thought  of  humanity,  it  seems  as  if  a 
question  so  simple  scarcely  deserved  such  an  elaborate 
answer  as  Jesus  gave  to  it.  But  the  thought  of  humanity 
had  not  yet  possessed  the  world ;  indeed,  it  had  only 
just  come  to  earth,  to  be  spoken  by,  and  incarnate 
in.  Him  who  was  the  Son  of  man.  To  the  Jew  the 
question  of  the  lawyer  was  a  most  important  one.  The 
word  "neighbour"  could  be  spoken  in  a  breath;  but 
unwind  that  word,  and  it  measures  oflf  the  whole  of  our 
earthly  life,  it  covers  all  our  practical,  every-day  duties. 
It  ran  through  the  pages  of  the  Law,  the  ark  in  which 


*•  25-37.]  THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN,  997 

the  Golden  Rule  was  hidden ;  or  like  a  silent  angel,  it 
flashed  its  sword  across  life's  forbidden  paths.  But  if 
the  Jew  could  not  erase  this  broad  word  from  the  pages 
of  the  Law,  he  could  narrow  and  emasculate  its  meaning 
by  an  interpretation  of  his  own.  And  this  they  had 
done,  making  this  Divine  word  almost  of  none  effect  by 
their  tradition.  To  the  Jewish  mind  "  neighbour  "  was 
simply  "Jew"  spelt  large.  The  only  neighbourhood 
they  recognized  was  the  narrow  neighbourhood  of 
Hebrew  speech  and  Hebrew  sympathies.  The  Hebrew 
mind  was  isolated  as  their  land,  and  all  who  could  not 
frame  their  Shibboleths  were  barbarians,  Gentiles,  whom 
they  were  at  perfect  liberty  to  spoil,  as  with  anathe- 
mas and  swords  they  chased  them  over  their  Jordans. 
Jesus,  however,  is  on  the  alert;  and  how  wisely  He 
answers  I  He  does  not  declaim  against  the  narrowness 
of  Hebrew  thought ;  He  utters  no  denunciatory  word 
against  their  proud  and  false  exclusiveness.  He  quietly 
unfolds  the  word,  spreading  it  out  into  an  exquisite 
parable,  that  all  coming  times  may  see  how  beautiful, 
how  Divine  the  word  "  neighbour  "  is. 

He  said,  "A  certain  man  was  going  down  from 
Jerusalem  to  Jericho;  and  he  fell  among  robbers, 
which  both  stripped  him,  and  beat  him,  and  departed, 
leaving  him  half  dead."  The  parables  of  Jesus,  though 
drawn  from  real  life,  had  no  local  colouring.  They 
grouped  themselves  around  some  well-known  fact  of 
nature,  or  some  general  custom  of  social  life ;  and  so 
their  spirit  was  national  or  cosmopolitan,  rather  than 
local.  Here,  however,  Jesus  departs  from  His  usual 
manner,  giving  to  His  parable  a  local  habitation.  It  is 
the  road  which  led  steeply  down  from  Jerusalem  to 
Jericho,  and  which  for  centuries  has  been  so  infested 
with  robbers  or  bandits  as  to  earn  for  itself  the  darkly 


298  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

ominous  name  of  ''the  Bloody  Way."  Possibly  thai 
name  itself  is  an  outgrowth  from  the  parable;  but  whotber 
so  or  not,  it  is  scarcely  to  be  supposed  that  it  had  so 
evil  a  character  in  the  days  of  Christ.  As  Jericho  then 
was  a  populous  city,  and  intimately  connected  with 
Jerusalem  in  its  social  and  business  life,  the  road  vvoald 
be  much  frequented.  Indeed,  the  parable  indicates  as 
much ;  for  Jesus,  whose  words  were  never  untrue  to 
nature  or  to  history,  represents  His  three  travellers  as 
all  journeying  singly ;  while  the  khan  or  "  inn  "  shows, 
in  its  reflection,  a  constant  stream  of  travel.  Our 
anonymous  traveller,  however,  does  not  find  it  so  safe 
as  he  had  anticipated.  Attacked,  in  one  of  its  dusky 
ravines,  by  a  band  of  brigands,  they  strip  him  of  his 
clothing,  with  whatever  the  girdle-purse  might  contain, 
and  beating  him  out  of  sheer  devilry,  they  leave  him  by 
the  road-side,  unable  to  walk,  unable  even  to  rise,  a 
living-dying  man. 

"And  by  chance,  a  certain  priest  was  going  down 
that  way ;  and  when  he  saw  him  he  passed  by  on  the 
other  side.  And  in  like  manner  a  Levite  also,  when 
he  came  to  the  place  and  saw  him,  passed  by  on  the 
other  side."  As  in  a  tableaux  vivants^  Jesus  shows  us 
the  two  ecclesiastics,  who  come  in  sight  in  the  happy, 
coincidental  way  that  Romance  so  delights  in.  They 
had  probably  just  completed  their  **  course  "  of  Temple 
service,  and  were  now  going  down  to  Jericho,  which 
was  a  favourite  residence  of  the  priests,  for  the  somewhat 
long  interval  their  sacred  duties  allowed  them.  They 
had,  therefore,  no  pressure  of  business  upon  them ; 
indeed,  the  verb  would  almost  imply  that  the  priest 
was  walking  leisurely  along.  But  they  bring  no  help 
to  the  v/ounded  man.  Directly  they  see  him,  instead 
of  being  drawn  to  him  by  the  attractions  of  sympathy, 


^•«5-37.1  THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN.  299 

sotjething,  either  the  shock  or  the  fright,  acts  upon 
them  as  a  centrifugal  force,  and  sends  them  describing 
an  arc  of  a  circle  around  that  centre  of  groans  and 
blood.  At  any  rate  they  "  passed  by  on  the  other 
side,"  leaving  behind  them  neither  deed  nor  word  of 
mercy,  but  leaving  behind  them  a  shadow  of  them- 
selves which,  while  time  itself  lasts,  will  be  vivid,  cold, 
and  repelling.  It  is  just  possible,  however,  that  they 
do  not  deserve  all  the  unmeasured  censure  which  the 
critics  and  the  centuries  have  given,  and  are  still  likely 
to  give.  It  is  very  easy  for  us  to  condemn  their  action 
as  selfish,  heartless ;  but  let  us  put  ourselves  in  their 
place,  alone  in  the  lonely  pass,  with  this  proof  of  an 
imminent  danger  sprung  suddenly  upon  us,  and  it  is 
possible  that  we  ourselves  should  not  have  been  quite 
80  brave  as  by  our  safe  firesides  we  imagine  ourselves 
to  be.  The  fact  is  it  needed  something  more  than 
sympathy  to  make  them  turn  aside  and  befriend  the 
wounded  man  ;  it  needed  physical  courage,  and  that 
of  the  highest  kind,  and  this  wanting,  sympathy  itself 
would  not  be  sufficient.  The  heart  might  long  to  help, 
even  when  the  feet  were  hastening  away.  A  sudden 
inrush  of  fear,  even  of  vague  alarm,  will  sometimes 
drive  us  contrary  to  the  drift  of  our  sympathies,  just 
as  our  feet  are  lifted  and  we  ourselves  carried  onwards 
by  a  surging  crowd. 

Whether  this  be  a  correct  interpretation  of  their  con- 
duct or  not,  it  certainly  harmonizes  with  the  general 
attitude  of  Jesus  towards  the  priesthood.  The  chief 
priests  were  always  and  bitterly  hostile,  but  we  have 
reasonable  ground  for  supposing  that  the  priests,  as 
a  body,  looked  favouringly  upon  Jesus.  The  bolts  of 
terrible  "  woes "  are  hurled  against  Pharisees  and 
scribes,  yet  Jesus  does  not  condemn  the  priests  in  a 


300  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

single  word ;  while  in  that  aftermath  of  the  Pent^coftt 
the  Temple  courts  yielded  the  richest  harvests, a«  "a 
great  company  of  the  priests  were  obedient  to  the 
faith."  If,  then,  Jesus  now  holds  up  the  priesthood  to 
execration,  setting  these  ecclesiastics  in  the  pillory  of 
His  parable,  that  the  coming  centuries  may  throw  sharp 
words  at  them,  it  is  certainly  an  exceptional  mood. 
The  sweet  silence  has  curdled  into  acrid  speech.  But 
even  here  Jesus  does  not  condemn,  except,  as  it  would 
seem,  by  implication,  the  conduct  of  the  priest  and 
Levite.  They  come  into  the  parable  rather  as  acces- 
sories, and  Jesus  makes  use  of  them  as  a  foil,  to 
throw  out  into  bolder  relief  the  central  figure,  which 
is  the  Samaritan,  and  so  to  emphasize  His  central  truth, 
which  is  the  real  answer  to  the  lawyer's  question,  that 
"  neighbour "  is  too  broad,  and  too  human,  a  word  to 
be  cut  off  and  deliminated  by  any  boundaries  of  race. 

But  in  thus  casting  a  mantle  of  charity  around 
our  priest  and  Levite,  we  must  admit  that  the  cha- 
racter is  sometimes  true  even  down  to  recent  days. 
Ecclesiasticism  and  religion,  alas !  are  not  always 
synonyms.  Revolted  Israel  sins  and  sacrifices  by 
turns,  and  seeking  to  keep  the  balance  in  equal  poise, 
she  puts  over  against  her  multitude  of  sins  her  multi- 
tude of  sacrifices.  Religiousness  may  be  at  times  but 
a  cloak  for  moral  laxity,  and  to  some  rite  is  more  than 
right  There  are  those,  alas !  to-day,  who  wear  the 
livery  of  the  Temple,  to  whom  religion  is  a  routine 
mechanism  of  dead  things,  rather  than  the  commerce 
of  living  hearts,  who  open  with  hireling  hand  the 
Temple  gates,  who  chant  with  hireling  lips  how  "  His 
mercy  endureth  for  ever,"  and  then  step  down  from 
their  sacred  Jerusalem,  to  toss  justice  and  mercy  to  the 
winds,  as  they  defraud  the  widow  and  oppress  the  poor. 


«.  25-37-1  THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN,  301 

*'But  a  certain  Samaritan,  as  he  journeyed,  came 
where  he  was  :  and  when  he  saw  him,  he  was  moved 
with  compassion,  and  came  to  him,  and  bound  up  his 
wounds,  pouring  on  them  oil  and  wine ;  and  he  set  him 
on  his  own  beast,  and  brought  him  to  an  inn,  and  took 
care  of  him."  At  first  sight  it  would  appear  as  if  Jesus 
had  weakened  the  narrative  by  a  topographical  in- 
accuracy, as  if  He  had  gone  out  of  His  way  to  place  a 
Samaritan  on  the  road  to  Jericho,  which  was  altogether 
out  of  the  line  of  Samaritan  travel  But  it  is  a  deliber- 
ate purpose  on  the  part  of  Jesus,  and  not  a  lapsus 
lingucPf  that  introduces  this  Samaritan ;  for  this  is  the 
gist  of  the  whole  parable.  The  man  who  had  fallen 
among  the  robbers  was  doubtless  a  Jew ;  for  had  it 
been  otherwise,  the  fact  would  have  been  stated.  Now, 
there  was  no  question  as  to  whether  the  word  '*  neigh- 
bour "  embraced  their  fellow-countrymen ;  the  question 
was  whether  it  passed  beyond  their  national  bounds, 
opening  up  lines  of  duty  across  the  outlying  world. 
It  is  therefore  almost  a  necessity  that  the  one  who 
teaches  this  lesson  should  be  himself  an  alien,  a 
foreigner,  and  Jesus  chooses  the  Samaritan  as  being  of 
a  race  against  which  Jewish  antipathies  were  especially 
strong,  but  for  which  He  Himself  had  a  special  regard 
and  warmest  sympathy.  Though  occupying  adjacent 
territory,  the  Jews  and  the  Samaritans  practically  were 
far  apart,  antipodal  races  we  might  almost  call  them. 
Between  them  lay  a  wide  and  deep  chasm  that  trade 
even  could  not  bridge,  and  across  which  the  courtesies 
and  sympathies  of  life  never  passed.  "The  Jews  have 
no  dealings  with  the  Samaritans,"  said  the  flippant 
woman  of  Samaria,  as  she  voiced  a  jealousy  and  hatred 
which  were  as  mutual  as  they  were  deep.  But  here, 
in  this  ideal  Samaritan,  is  a  noble  exceptioa     Though 


302  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE. 

belonging  to  a  lowly  and  obscure  race,  his  thoughts  are 
high.  The  ear  of  his  soul  has  so  caught  the  rhythm  of 
Divine  harmonies  that  it  does  not  hear  longer  the  little 
lisping  Shibboleths  of  earthly  speech;  and  while  the  sym- 
pathies of  smaller  hearts  flow  like  a  stream  down  in  their 
well-defined  and  accustomed  channel,  seldom  knowing 
any  overflow,  save  in  some  rare  freshet  of  impulse  and 
of  feeling,  the  sympathies  of  the  Samaritan  moved  out- 
ward like  the  currents  of  the  wind,  sweeping  across  all 
chasms  and  over  all  mountain  heights  of  division,  bear- 
ing their  clouds  of  blessing  anywhither  as  the  need 
required.  It  makes  no  difference  to  him  that  the  fallen 
man  is  of  an  alien  race.  He  is  a  mattf  and  that  is 
enough;  and  he  is  down,  and  must  be  raised;  he  is 
in  need,  and  must  be  helped.  The  priest  and  Levite 
thought  first  and  most  of  themselves,  and  giving  to 
the  man  but  a  brief  and  scared  look,  they  passed  on 
with  a  quickened  pace.  Not  so  with  the  Samaritan; 
he  loses  all  thought  of  himself,  and  is  perfectly  oblivious 
to  the  danger  he  himself  may  be  running.  Upon  his 
great  soul  he  feels  the  pressure  of  this  *^  must ; "  it  runs 
along  the  tightened  muscles  of  his  arm,  as  he  checks 
his  steed.  He  himself  comes  down,  dismounting,  that 
he  may  help  the  man  to  rise.  He  opens  his  flask  and 
puts  his  wine  to  the  lips,  that  their  groans  may  cease, 
or  that  they  may  be  soothed  down  into  inarticulate 
speech.  The  oil  he  has  brought  for  his  own  food  he 
pours  upon  the  wounds,  and  when  the  man  has  suf- 
ficiently recovered  he  lifts  him  upon  his  own  beast  and 
takes  him  to  the  inn.  Nor  is  this  enough  for  his  great 
heart,  but  continuing  his  journey  on  the  morrow,  he 
first  arranges  with  his  host  that  the  man  shall  Jbe  well 
cared  for,  giving  him  two  pence,  which  was  the  two 
days'   wages   of  a  labouring  man,  at   the   same  time 


».a5-37.)  THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN.  303 

telling  him  that  he  must  not  limit  his  attentions  to  the 
sum  he  pays  in  advance,  but  that  if  anything  more 
should  be  needed  he  would  pay  the  balance  on  his 
return.  We  do  not  read  whether  it  was  needed  or  not, 
for  the  Samaritan,  mounting  his  steed,  passes  out  of 
our  hearing  and  out  of  our  sight.  Not  quite  out  of 
our  hearing,  however,  for  Heaven  has  caught  his  gentle, 
loving  words,  and  hidden  them  within  this  parable,  that 
all  coming  times  may  listen  to  their  music ;  nor  out  of 
our  sight  either,  for  his  photograph  was  caught  in  the 
sunlight  of  the  Master's  speech ;  and  as  we  turn  over 
the  pages  of  Inspiration  there  is  no  picture  more  beauti- 
ful than  that  of  the  nameless  Samaritan,  whom  all  the 
world  calls  "the  Good,"  the  man  who  knew  so  much 
better  than  his  age  what  humanity  and  mercy  meant. 

In  the  new  light  the  lawyer  can  answer  his  own  ques- 
tion now,  and  he  does ;  for  when  Jesus  asks,  "  Which 
of  these  three,  thinkest  thou,  proved  neighbour  unto 
him  that  fell  among  the  robbers  ?  "  he  replies,  with  no 
hesitation,  but  with  a  lingering  prejudice  that  does  not 
care  to  pronounce  the,  to  him,  outlandish  name,  "  He 
that  showed  mercy  on  him."  The  lesson  is  learned, 
the  lesson  of  humanity,  for  the  whole  parable  is  but 
an  amplification  of  the  Golden  Rule,  and  Jesus  dis- 
misses the  subject  and  the  scholar  with  the  personal 
application,  which  is  but  a  corollary  of  the  proposition 
He  has  demonstrated,  *'  Go  thou  and  do  likewise."  Go 
and  do  to  others  as  you  would  have  them  do  to 
you,  were  the  circumstances  reversed  and  your  places 
changed.  Read  off  your  duty,  not  from  your  own  low 
standpoint  merely,  but  in  a  binocular  vision,  as  you  put 
yourself  in  his  place ;  so  will  you  find  that  the  line  of 
duty  and  the  line  of  beauty  are  one. 

The   practical   lessons  of  the  parable  are   easy  to 


JOij  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

trace,  as  they  are  of  universal  application.  The  first 
lesson  it  teaches  is  the  lesson  of  humanity,  the  neigh- 
bourhood and  brotherhood  of  man.  It  is  a  convenience, 
and  perhaps  a  necessity,  of  human  life,  that  the  great 
mass  of  humanity  should  be  broken  up  into  fragments, 
sections,  with  differing  customs,  languages,  and  names. 
It  gives  to  the  world  the  stimulus  of  competition  j.nd 
helpful  rivalries.  But  these  distinctions  are  superficial, 
temporary,  and  beneath  this  diversity  of  speech  and 
thought  there  is  the  deeper  unity  of  soul.  We  empha- 
size our  differences;  we  pride  ourselves  upon  them; 
but  how  little  does  Heaven  make  of  them !  Heaven 
does  not  even  see  them.  Our  national  boundaries  may 
climb  up  over  the  Alps,  but  they  cannot  touch  the  sky. 
Those  skies  look  down  and  smile  on  all  alike,  Divinely 
impartial  in  their  gifts  of  beauty  and  of  light.  And 
how  little  of  the  provincial,  or  even  national,  there  was 
about  Jesus  I  Though  He  kept  Himself  almost  entirely 
within  the  borders  of  the  Holy  Land,  never  going  far 
from  His  central  pivot,  which  was  Jerusalem,  and  its 
cross,  yet  He  belonged  to  the  world,  as  the  world 
belonged  to  Him.  He  called  Himself  the  Son  of  man, 
at  once  humanity's  flower,  and  humanity's  Son  and 
Saviour.  And  as  over  the  cradle  of  the  Son  of  man  the 
far  East  and  the  far  West  together  leaned,  so  around 
His  cross  was  the  meeting-place  of  the  races.  The 
three  chief  languages  inscribed  upon  it  proclaimed  His 
royalty,  while  the  cross  itself,  on  which  the  Sacrifice 
for  humanity  was  to  be  offered,  was  itself  the  gift  of 
humanity  at  large,  as  Asia  provided  it,  and  Europe 
prepared  it,  and  Africa,  in  the  person  of  the  Cyrenean, 
bore  it  In  the  mind  of  Jesus,  as  in  the  purpose  of 
God,  humanity  was  not  a  group  of  fractions,  but  a 
unit    one  and  indivisible,  made  of  one  blood,  and  by 


«•  25-370  THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN.  joj 

one  Blood  redeemed.  In  the  heart  of  Jesus  there  was 
the  "  enthusiasm  of  humanity/'  all-absorbing  and  com- 
plete, and  that  enthusiasm  takes  possession  of  us,  a 
new  force  generated  in  our  lives,  as  we  approach  in 
spirit  the  great  Ideal  Man. 

The  second  lesson  of  the  parable  is  the  lesson  of 
mercy,  the  beauty  of  self-sacrifice.  It  was  because  the 
Samaritan  forgot  himself  that  all  the  world  has  remem- 
bered and  applauded  him.  It  is  because  of  his  stoop  of 
self-renouncing  love  that  his  character  is  so  exalted,  his 
memory  so  dear,  and  that  his  very  name,  which  is  a 
title  without  a  name,  floats  down  the  ages  like  a  sweet 
song.  "Go  and  do  thou  Hkewise"  is  the  Master's 
word  to  us.  Discipline  your  heart  that  you  may  see 
in  man  everywhere  a  brother,  whose  keeper  you  are. 
Let  fraternity  be,  not  a  theory  only,  but  a  realized  fact, 
and  then  a  factor  of  your  life.  Train  your  eye  to 
watch  for  others'  needs,  to  read  another's  woe.  Train 
your  soul  to  sympathy,  and  your  hand  to  helpfulness ; 
for  in  our  world  there  is  room  enough  for  both.  Beth- 
esda's  porches  stretch  far  as  our  eye  can  reach,  all 
crowded,  too,  with  the  sorrowing,  the  sick,  and  the  sad, 
thick  enough  indeed,  but  not  so  close  as  that  an  angel's 
foot  may  not  step  between  them,  and  not  so  sad  but 
an  angel's  voice  may  soothe  and  cheer.  He  who  lifts 
another's  load,  who  soothes  another's  smart,  who 
brightens  a  life  that  else  would  be  dark,  who  puts  a 
music  within  a  brother's  soul,  though  it  be  only  for  a 
passing  moment,  wakes  even  a  sweeter  music  within 
his  own,  for  he  enters  on  earth  into  his  Master's  joy, 
the  joy  of  a  redeeming,  self-sacrificing  love. 


SO 


CHAPTER    XX 
THE   TWO   SISTERS 

LUKB  Z.    38-43. 

AT  first  sight  it  appears  as  if  our  Evangelist  had 
departed  from  the  orderly  arrangement  of  which 
he  speaks  in  his  prelude,  in  thus  linking  this  domestic 
scene  of  Judaea  with  His  northern  GaHlean  journey, 
and  to  the  casual  glance  this  home-flower  does  certainly 
seem  an  exotic  in  thts  garden  of  the  Lord.  The 
strangeness,  the  out-of-placeness,  however,  vanishes 
entirely  upon  a  nearer,  closer  view.  If,  as  is  probable, 
the  parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan  was  spoken  during 
that  northward  journey,  its  scene  lies  away  in  Judaea, 
in  the  dangerous  road  that  sweeps  down  from  Jerusalem 
to  Jericho.  Now,  this  road  to  Jericho  lay  through  the 
village  of  Bethany,  and  in  the  Evangelist's  mind  the 
two  places  are  intimately  connected,  as  we  see  (chap. 
xix.  w.  I,  29)  ;  so  that  the  idyll  of  Bethany  would  follow 
the  parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan  with  a  certain 
naturalness,  the  one  recalling  the  other  by  the  simple 
association  of  ideas.  Then,  too,  it  harmonizes  so 
thoroughly  with  its  context,  as  it  comes  between  a 
parable  on  works  and  a  chapter  on  prayer.  In  the  one, 
man  is  the  doer,  heart  and  hand  going  out  in  the 
beautiful  ministries  of  love ;  in  the  other,  man  is  the 
receiver,  waiting  upon  God,  opening  hand  and  heart 
for  the  inflow  of  Divine  grace.     In  one  it  is  Love  in 


1.38-42.]  THE  TWO  SISTERS.  307 

action  that  we  see ;  in  the  other  it  is  Love  at  rest,  at 
rest  from  activities  of  her  own,  in  quest  of  further  good. 
This  is  exactly  the  picture  our  Evangelist  draws  of 
the  two  sisters,  and  which  might  have  served  as  a 
parable  had  it  not  been  so  plainly  taken  from  real 
life.  Perhaps,  too,  another  consideration  influenced 
the  Evangelist,  and  one  that  is  suggested  by  the  studied 
vagueness  of  the  narrative.  He  gives  no  clue  as  to 
where  the  little  incident  occurred,  for  the  "  certain 
village "  might  be  equally  appropriate  in  Samaria 
or  Judaea ;  while  the  two  names,  Martha  and  Mary, 
apart  from  the  corroboration  of  St.  John's  Gospel, 
would  not  enable  us  to  localize  the  scene.  It  is  evident 
that  St.  Luke  wished  to  throw  around  them  a  sort  of 
incognito f  probably  because  they  were  still  living  when 
he  wrote,  and  too  great  publicity  might  subject  them 
to  inconvenience,  or  even  to  something  more.  And 
so  St.  Luke  considerately  masks  the  picture,  shutting 
off  the  background  of  locality,  while  St.  John,  who 
writes  at  a  later  date,  when  Jerusalem  has  fallen,  and 
who  is  under  no  such  obligation  of  reserve,  fies  the 
scene  precisely;  for  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
Mary  and  Martha  of  his  Gospel,  of  Bethany,  are  the 
Martha  and  Mary  of  St.  Luke ;  their  very  characters, 
as  well  as  names,  are  identical. 

It  was  in  one  of  His  journeys  to  the  south,  though 
we  have  no  means  of  telling  which,  that  He  came  to 
Bethany,  a  small  village  on  the  eastern  slope  of  Olivet, 
and  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour  from  Jerusalem. 
There  are  several  indications  in  the  Gospels  that  this 
was  a  favourite  resort  of  Jesus  during  His  Judaean 
ministry  (Matt.  xxi.  I ;  John  viii.  i) ;  and  it  is  some- 
what singular  that  the  only  nights  that  we  read  He 
spent  in  Jerusalem  were  the  night  in  the  garden  and 


So6  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE, 

the  two  nights  He  slept  in  its  grave.  He  preferred 
the  quiet  haven  of  Bethany ;  and  though  we  cannot 
with  absolute  certainty  recognize  the  village  home 
where  Jesus  had  such  frequent  welcome,  yet  throwing 
the  side-light  of  John  xi.  5  upon  the  haze,  it  seems 
in  part  to  lift ;  for  the  deep  affection  Jesus  had  for  the 
three  implies  a  close  and  ripened  intimacy. 

St.  John,  in  his  allusions  to  the  family,  makes  Mary 
prominent,  giving  precedence  to  her  name,  as  he  calls 
Bethany  "  the  village  of  Mary  and  her  sister  Martha  " 
(John  xi.  l).  St.  Luke,  however,  makes  Martha  the 
central  figure  of  his  picture,  while  Mary  is  set  back  in 
the  shade,  or  rather  in  the  sunshine  of  that  Presence 
which  was  and  is  the  Light  of  the  world.  It  was, 
**  Martha  received  Him  into  her  house."  She  was  the 
recognized  head  of  the  family,  "  the  lady "  in  fact, 
as  well  as  by  the  implication  of  her  name,  which  was 
the  native  equivalent  of  '*  lady."  It  was  she  who  gave 
the  invitation  to  the  Master,  and  on  her  devolved  all 
the  care  of  the  entertainment,  the  preparation  of  the 
feast,  and  the  reception  of  the  guests ;  for  though  the 
change  of  pronoun  in  ver.  38  from  "  they  "  to  "  Him  " 
would  lead  us  to  suppose  that  the  disciples  had  gone 
another  way,  and  were  not  with  Him  now,  still  the 
"much  serving"  would  show  that  it  was  a  special 
occasion,  and  that  others  had  been  invited  to  meet 
Jesus. 

It  is  a  significant  coincidence  that  St.  John,  speaking 
(xii.  2)  of  another  supper  at  Bethany,  in  the  house  of 
Simon,  states  that  Martha  "served,"  using  the  same 
word  that  Jesus  addressed  to  her  in  the  narrative  of 
St  Luke.  Evidently  Martha  was  a  "server."  This 
was  her  forte,  so  much  so  that  her  services  were  in 
requisition  outside  her  own  house.    Hers  was  a  culinary 


X.  38-42.]  THE  TWO  SISTERS.  309 

skill,  and  she  delighted  with  her  sleight  of  hand  to 
effect  all  sorts  of  transformations,  as,  conjuring  with 
her  fire,  she  called  forth  the  pleasures  and  harmonies 
of  taste.  In  this  case,  however,  she  overdid  it ;  she 
went  beyond  her  strength.  Perhaps  her  guests  out- 
numbered her  invitations,  or  something  unforeseen  had 
upset  her  plans,  so  that  some  of  the  viands  were 
belated.  At  any  rate,  she  was  cumbered,  distracted, 
"  put  about "  as  our  modern  colloquialism  would  have 
it.  Perhaps  we  might  say  she  was  "  put  out "  as  well, 
for  we  can  certainly  detect  a  trace  of  irritability  both 
in  her  manner  and  in  her  speech.  She  breaks  in 
suddenly  among  the  guests  (the  aorist  participle  gives 
the  rustle  of  a  quick  movement),  and  in  the  hearing  of 
them  all  she  says  to  Jesus,  "  Lord,  dost  Thou  not  care 
that  my  sister  did  leave  me  to  serve  alone  ?  bid  her 
therefore  that  she  help  me,"  Her  tone  is  sharp, 
querulous,  and  her  words  send  a  deep  chill  across  the 
table,  as  when  a  sea-fret  drifts  coldly  inland.  If  Mary 
was  in  the  wrong  thus  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  Martha 
certainly  was  not  in  the  right.  There  was  no  occasion 
to  give  this  public  reprimand,  this  round-hand  rebuke. 
She  might  have  come  and  secretly  called  her,  as  she 
did  afterwards,  on  the  day  of  their  sorrow,  and  probably 
Mary  would  have  risen  as  quickly  now  as  then.  But 
Martha  is  overweighted,  ruffled ;  her  feelings  get  the 
better  of  her  judgment,  and  she  speaks,  out  of  the  impati- 
ence of  her  heart,  words  she  never  would  have  spoken  had 
she  but  known  that  Inspiration  would  keep  their  echoes 
reverberating  down  all  the  years  of  time.  And  besides, 
her  words  were  somewhat  lacking  in  respect  to  the 
Master.  True,  she  addresses  Him  as  "  Lord  ;  *'  but 
having  done  this,  she  goes  off  into  an  interrogative 
with  an  implied  censure  in  it,  and  closes  with  an  im- 


3IO  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

perative,  which,  to  say  the  least,  was  not  becoming, 
while  all  through  an  undue  emphasis  is  laid  upon  the 
first  personal  pronoun,  the  *'  me  "  of  her  aggrieved  self. 
Turning  to  the  other  sister,  we  find  a  striking  con- 
trast, for  Mary,  as  our  Evangelist  puts  it,  "  also  sat 
at  the  Lord's  feet,  and  heard  His  word."  This  does 
not  imply  any  forwardness  on  her  part,  or  any  desire 
to  make  herself  conspicuous;  the  whole  drift  of  her 
nature  was  in  the  opposite  direction.  Sitting  "at  His 
feet "  now  that  they  were  reclining  at  the  table,  meant 
sitting  behind  Him,  alone  amid  the  company,  and 
screened  from  their  too-curious  gaze  by  Him  who  drew 
all  eyes  to  Himself.  Nor  does  she  break  through  her 
womanly  reserve  to  take  part  in  the  conversation ;  she 
simply  "  heard  His  word  ; "  or  "  she  kept  listening," 
as  the  imperfect  tense  denotes.  She  put  herself  in  the 
listening  attitude,  content  to  be  in  the  shadow,  outside 
the  charmed  circle,  if  she  only  might  hear  Him  speak, 
whose  words  fell  like  a  rain  of  music  upon  her  soul. 
Her  sister  chided  her  for  this,  and  the  large  family  of 
modern  Marthas — for  feminine  sentiment  is  almost 
entirely  on  Martha's  side — blame  her  severely,  for 
what  they  call  the  selfishness  of  her  conduct,  seeking 
her  own  enjoyment,  even  though  others  must  pay  the 
price  of  it.  But  was  Mary  so  utterly  selfish  ?  and  did 
she  sacrifice  duty  to  gratify  her  inclination  ?  Not  at 
all,  and  certainly  not  to  the  extent  our  Marthas  would 
have  us  believe.  Mary  had  assisted  in  the  preparations 
and  the  reception,  as  the  "  also "  of  ver.  39  shows ; 
while  Martha's  own  words,  '^My  sister  did  leave  me 
to  serve  alone,"  themselves  imply  that  Mary  had  shared 
the  labours  of  the  entertainment  before  taking  her 
place  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  The  probability  is  that  she 
had  completed  her  task ,  and  now  that  He  who  spake 


».  38-42]  THE   TWO  SISTERS.  JIl 

as  never  man  spake  before  was  conversing  with  the 
guests,  she  could  not  forego  the  privilege  of  listening 
to  the  voice  she  might  not  hear  again. 

It  is  to  Jesus,  however,  that  we  must  go  with  our 
rivalry  of  clayns.  He  is  our  Court  of  Equity.  His 
estimate  of  character  was  never  at  fault  He  looked 
at  the  essences  of  things,  the  soul  of  things,  and  not 
to  the  outward  wrappings  of  circumstance,  and  He 
read  that  palimpsest  of  motive,  the  underlying  thought, 
more  easily  than  others  could  read  the  outward  act. 
And  certainly  Jesus  had  no  apology  for  selfishness  ;  His 
whole  life  was  one  war  against  it,  and  against  sin, 
which  is  but  selfishness  ripened.  But  how  does  Jesus 
adjust  this  sisterly  difference  ?  Does  He  dismiss  the 
listener,  and  send  her  back  to  an  unfinished  task  ? 
Does  He  pass  on  to  her  Martha's  warm  reproof?  Not 
at  all ;  but  He  gently  reproves  the  elder  sister. 
"  Martha,  Martha,"  He  said,  as  if  her  mind  had 
wandered,  and  the  iteration  was  necessary  to  call  her 
to  herself,  "  thou  art  anxious  and  troubled  about  many 
things  :  but  one  thing  is  needful :  for  Mary  hath  chosen 
the  good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her." 

It  is  easy  to  see  from  this  where  Jesus  thought  the 
blame  should  rest.  It  was  Martha  who  had  taken  too 
much  upon  herself.  Her  generous  heart  had  gone 
beyond  her  strength,  and  far  beyond  the  need.  Wish- 
ing to  do  honour  to  her  Guest,  studying  to  please  Him, 
she  had  been  over-lavish  in  her  entertainment,  until 
she  had  become  worried — anxious,  troubled,  as  Jesus 
said,  the  former  word  referring  to  the  inner  disquiet, 
the  unrest  of  soul,  and  the  latter  to  the  outward  per- 
turbation, the  tremor  of  the  nerves,  and  the  cloudiness 
that  looked  from  her  eyes.  The  fact  was  that  Martha 
had  misread  the  tastes  of  her  Guest.     She  thought  to 


3lfl  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

please  Him  by  the  abundance  of  her  provision,  the 
largeness  of  her  hospitality;  but  for  these  lower  pleasures 
of  sense  and  of  taste  Jesus  cared  little.  He  had  meat 
to  eat  that  others  knew  not  of,  and  to  do  the  will  of 
Him  that  sent  Him  was  to  Jesus  more  than  any 
ambrosia  or  nectar  of  the  gods.  The  more  simple  the 
repast,  the  more  it  pleased  Him,  whose  thoughts  were 
high  in  the  heavenly  places,  even  while  His  feet  and 
the  mortal  body  He  wore  touched  lightly  the  earth. 
And  so  while  Martha's  motive  was  pure,  her  judgment 
was  mistaken,  and  her  eager  heart  tempted  her  to 
works  of  supererogation,  to  an  excess  of  care  which 
was  anxiety,  the  fret  and  fever  of  the  soul.  Had  she 
been  content  with  a  modest  service,  such  as  would  have 
pleased  her  Guest,  she  too  might  have  found  time  to 
sit  at  His  feet,  and  to  have  found  there  an  Elim  of  rest 
and  a  Mount  of  Beatitudes. 

But  while  Jesus  has  a  kind  rebuke  for  Martha,  He 
has  only  words  of  commendation  for  her  sister,  whom 
she  has  been  so  openly  and  sharply  upbraiding, 
"  Mary,"  He  said,  speaking  the  name  Martha  had  not 
uttered,  "  hath  chosen  the  good  part,  which  shall  not 
be  taken  away  from  her."  He  answers  Martha  in 
her  own  language,  her  native  tongue ;  for  in  speaking 
of  Mary's  choice  as  the  "good  part,"  it  is  a  culinary 
phrase,  the  parlance  of  the  kitchen  or  the  table,  mean- 
ing the  choice  bit.  The  phrase  is  in  apposition  with 
the  one  thing  which  is  needful,  which  itself  is  the 
antithesis  to  the  "many  things"  of  Martha's  care. 
What  the  "  one  thing "  is  of  which  Jesus  speaks  we 
cannot  say  with  certainty,  and  almost  numberless  have 
been  the  interpretations  given  to  it.  But  without  going 
into  them,  can  we  not  find  the  truest  interpretation  in 
the  Lord's  own  words?     We   think  we  may,  for  in 


x.38-4a.)  THE  TWO  SISTERS.  313 

the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  we  have  an  exact  parallel 
to  the  narrative.  He  finds  people  burdened,  anxious 
about  the  things  of  this  life,  wearying  themselves 
with  the  interminable  questions,  "  What  shall  we  eat  ? 
or  What  shall  we  drink  ?  "  as  if  life  had  no  quest  higher 
and  vaster  than  these.  And  Jesus  rebukes  this  spirit 
of  anxiety,  exorcising  it  by  an  appeal  to  the  lilies  and 
the  grass  of  the  field  ;  and  summing  up  His  condemna- 
tion of  anxiety,  He  adds  the  injunction,  "Seek  ye  His 
kingdom,  and  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you" 
(xii.  31).  Here,  again,  we  have  the  "  many  things  "  of 
human  care  and  strife  contrasted  with  the  "  one  thing  * 
which  is  of  supremest  moment.  First,  the  kingdom ; 
this  in  the  mind  of  Jesus  was  the  summum  bonum,  the 
highest  good  of  man,  compared  with  which  the  "  many 
things  "  for  which  men  strive  and  toil  are  but  the  dust 
of  the  balances.  And  this  was  the  choice  of  Mary. 
She  sought  the  kingdom  of  God,  sitting  at  the  feet 
of  Him  who  proclaimed  it,  and  who  was,  though  she 
knew  it  not  as  yet,  Himself  the  King.  Martha  too 
sought  the  kingdom,  but  her  distracted  mind  showed 
that  that  was  not  her  only,  perhaps  not  her  chief 
quest.  Earthly  things  weighed  too  heavily  upon  her 
mind  and  heart,  and  through  their  dust  the  heavenly 
things  became  somewhat  obscured.  Mary's  heart  was 
set  heavenward.  She  was  the  listener,  eager  to  know 
the  will  of  God,  that  she  might  do  it.  Martha  was  so 
busied  with  her  own  activities  that  she  could  not  give 
her  thoughts  to  Christ ;  Mary  ceased  from  her  works, 
that  so  she  might  enter  into  His  rest,  setting  the 
world  behind  her,  that  her  undivided  gaze  might  be 
upon  Him  who  was  truly  her  Lord.  And  so  Jesus 
loved  Martha,  yet  pitied  and  chided  her,  while  He 
loved  and  commended  Mary. 


314  THE   GOSPEL   Of  ST.  LUKE, 

Nor  was  the  "  good  part  '*  ever  taken  from  her,  for 
again  and  again  we  find  her  returning  to  the  feet  of 
Jesus.  In  the  day  of  their  great  sorrow,  as  soon  as 
she  heard  that  the  Master  had  come  and  called  her,  she 
arose  quickly,  and  coming  to  Jesus,  though  it  was  the 
bare,  dusty  ground,  she  fell  at  His  feet,  seeking  strength 
and  help  where  she  before  had  sought  light  and  truth. 
And  once  more :  when  the  shadow  of  the  cross  came 
vividly  near,  when  Simon  gave  the  feast  which  Martha 
served,  Mary  sought  those  feet  again,  to  pour  upon 
them  the  precious  and  fragrant  nard,  the  sweet  odours 
of  which  filled  all  the  house,  as  they  have  since  filled 
all  the  world.  Yes,  Mary  did  not  sit  at  the  feet  of 
Jesus  in  vain ;  she  had  learned  to  know  Christ  as  few 
of  the  disciples  did ;  for  when  Jesus  said,  "  She  has 
done  it  for  My  burying,"  He  intends  us  to  infer  that 
Mary  feels,  stealing  over  her  retiring  but  loving  soul, 
the  cold  and  awful  shadow  of  the  cross.  Her  broken 
alabaster  and  its  poured-out  spikenard  are  her  unspoken 
ode  to  the  Redeemer,  her  pre-dated  homage  to  the 
Crucified. 

And  so  we  find  in  Mary  the  truest  type  of  service. 
Hers  was  not  always  the  passive  attitude,  receiving 
and  never  giving,  absorbing  and  not  diffusing.  There 
was  the  service  before  the  session  ;  her  hands  had 
prepared  and  wrought  for  Christ  before  she  placed 
herself  at  His  feet,  and  the  sacrifice  followed,  as  she 
brought  her  costly  gift,  to  the  astonishment  of  all  the 
rest,  her  sweet  and  healing  balm  for  the  wounds  which 
were  soon  to  follow. 

The  life  that  is  all  receptive,  that  has  no  active 
ministries  of  love,  no  waiting  upon  Christ  in  the  person 
of  His  followers,  is  an  unnatural,  an  unhealthy  life,  a 
piece  of  morbid  selfishness  which  neither  pleases  God 


».38-4a]  THE   TWO  SISTERS,  315 

nor  blesses  man.  On  the  other  hand,  the  life  that  is 
always  busy,  that  is  in  a  constant  swirl  of  outward  duties, 
flying  here  and  there  like  the  stormy  petrel  over  the 
unresting  waves,  will  soon  weary  or  wear  itself  out,  or 
it  will  grow  into  an  automaton,  a  mechanism  without  a 
soul.  Receiving,  giving,  praying,  working — these  are 
the  alternate  chords  on  which  the  music  of  our  lives 
should  be  struck.  Heavenward,  earthward,  should  be 
the  alternate  looks — heavenward  in  our  waiting  upon 
God,  and  earthward  in  our  service  for  man.  That  life 
shines  the  most  and  is  seen  the  farthest  which  reflects 
most  of  the  heavenly  light ;  and  he  serves  Christ  the 
best  who  now  sits  humbly  and  prayerfully  at  His  feet, 
and  then  goes  forth  to  be  a  "living  echo  of  His  voice," 
breaking  for  Him  the  alabaster  of  a  self-sacrificing 
love.  As  one  has  beautifully  expressed  it,  "  The 
effective  life  and  the  receptive  life  are  one.  No  sweep 
of  arm  that  does  some  work  for  God  but  harvests  also 
some  more  of  the  truth  of  God  and  sweeps  it  into  the 
treasury  of  the  life."  * 

But  if  Mary  gives  us  a  type  of  the  truest  and  best 
service,  Martha  shows  us  a  kind  of  service  which  is 
only  too  common.  She  gave  to  Jesus  a  right  loving 
welcome,  and  was  delighted  with  the  privilege  of  minis- 
tering to  His  wants  ;  but  the  coming  of  Jesus  brought 
her,  not  peace,  but  distraction — not  rest,  but  worry. 
Her  very  service  ruffled  and  irritated  her,  until  mind 
and  heart  were  like  the  tempestuous  lake  ere  the  spell 
of  the  Divine  *'  Peace  "  fell  upon  it.  And  all  the  time 
the  Christ  was  near,  who  could  bear  each  burden,  and 
still  all  the  disquiet  of  the  soul  I  But  Martha  was  all 
absorbed  in  the  thought  of  what  she  could  do  for  Him, 

•  Phillips  Brooks, 


3i6  THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE, 

and  she  forgot  how  much  more  He  could  do  for  her, 
giving  to  her  chafed  spirit  quietness  and  rest,  even 
amid  her  toil.  The  Divine  Peace  was  near  her,  within 
her  home,  but  the  hurry ings  of  her  restless  will  and 
her  manifold  activities  effectually  excluded  that  peace 
from  her  heart 

And  how  many  who  call  themselves  Christians  are 
true  Marthas,  serving  Christ,  but  feeling  the  yoke  to 
chafe,  and  the  burden  to  weight  them  1  perhaps  preach- 
ing to  others  the  Gospel  of  rest  and  peace,  and  them- 
selves knowing  little  of  its  experience  and  blessedness — 
like  the  camels  of  the  desert,  which  carry  their  treasures 
of  corn  and  sweet  spices  to  others,  and  themselves 
feed  r  the  bitter  and  prickly  herbs.  Ah,  you  are 
too  much  upon  your  feet  I  Cease  for  awhile  from  your 
own  works,  and  let  God  work  in  you.  Wait  in  His 
presence.  Let  His  words  take  hold  of  you,  and  His 
love  enthuse  you  ;  so  will  you  find  rest  amid  your 
toil,  calmness  amid  the  strife,  and  you  will  prove  that 
the  fret  and  the  fever  of  life  will  all  disappear  at  the 
touch  of  the  living  Christ. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
LOST    AND    FOUND. 

LUKX  XV. 

IN  this  chapter  we  see  how  the  waves  of  iiiriucnce^ 
moving  outward  from  their  Divine  centre,  touch 
the  outermost  fringe  of  humanity,  sending  the  pulsations 
of  new  excitements  and  new  hopes  through  classes 
Religion  and  Society  both  had  banned.  "  Now  all  the 
publicans  and  sinners  were  drawing  near  unto  Him, 
for  to  hear  Him."  It  was  evidently  a  movement 
widespread  and  deep.  The  hostiHty  of  Pharisees  and 
scribes  would  naturally  give  to  these  outcasts  a  certain 
bias  in  His  favour,  causing  their  hearts  to  lean  towards 
him,  while  His  words  of  hope  fell  upon  their  lives  like 
the  breaking  of  a  new  dawn.  Nor  did  Jesus  forbid 
their  approach.  Instead  of  looking  upon  it  as  an 
intrusion,  an  impertinence,  the  attraction  was  mutual. 
Instead  of  receiving  them  with  a  cold  and  scant  courtesy. 
He  welcomed  them,  receiving  them  gladly,  as  the  verb 
of  the  Pharisees'  murmur  implies.  He  even  mingled 
with  them  in  social  intercourse,  with  an  acceptance, 
if  not  an  interchange,  of  hospitality.  To  the  Pharisaic 
mind,  however,  this  was  a  flagrant  lapse,  a  breach  of 
the  proprieties  which  was  unpardonable  and  half 
criminal,  and  they  gave  vent  to  their  disapprobation 
and  disgust  in  the  loud  and  scornful  murmur,  ''This 


3i8  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

man  receive th  sinners,  and  eateth  with  them."  It  k 
from  this  hard  sentence  of  withering  contempt,  as  from 
a  prickly  and  bitter  calyx,  we  have  the  trifoliate 
parables  of  the  Lost  Sheep,  the  Lost  Coin,  and  the  Lost 
Man,  the  last  of  which  is  perhaps  the  crown  and 
flower  of  all  the  parables.  With  minor  differences,  the 
three  parables  are  really  one,  emphasizing,  as  they 
reiterate,  the  one  truth  how  Heaven  seeks  after  the 
lost  of  earth,  and  how  it  rejoices  when  the  lost  is 
found. 

The  first  parable  is  pastoral :  "  What  man  of  you," 
asks  Jesus,  using  the  Tu  quoque  retort,  "  having  a 
hundred  sheep,  and  having  lost  one  of  them,  doth  not 
leave  the  ninety  and  nine  in  the  wilderness,  and  go 
after  that  which  is  lost,  until  he  find  it  ?  "  It  is  one 
of  those  questions  which  only  need  to  be  asked  to 
be  answered,  an  interrogative  which  is  axiomatic  and 
self-evident.  Jesus  tries  to  set  his  detractors  in  His 
place,  that  they  may  think  His  thoughts,  feel  His 
feelings,  as  they  look  out  on  the  world  from  His  stand- 
point ;  but  since  they  cannot  follow  Him  to  these 
redemptive  heights.  He  comes  down  to  the  lower  level 
of  their  vision.  "  Suppose  you  have  a  hundred  sheep, 
and  one  of  them,  getting  separated  from  the  rest, 
goes  astray,  what  do  you  do  ?  Dismissing  it  from 
your  thought,  do  you  leave  it  to  its  fate,  the  certain 
slaughter  that  awaits  it  from  the  wild  beasts?  or  do 
you  seek  to  minimize  your  loss,  working  it  out  by  the 
rule  of  proportion  as  you  ask,  *  What  is  one  to  ninety- 
nine  ? '  then  writing  off  the  lost  one,  not  as  a  unit,  but 
as  a  common  fraction  ?  No ;  such  a  supposition  is 
incredible  and  impossible.  You  would  go  in  search 
of  the  lost  directly.  Turning  your  back  upon  the 
ninety  and  nine,  and  turning  your  thoughts  from  them 


XT.]  LOST  AND  FOUND.  319 

too,  you  would  leave  them  in  their  mountain  pasture,* 
as  you  sought  the  lost  one.  Calling  it  by  its  name, 
you  would  climb  the  terraced  hills,  and  awake  the 
echoes  of  the  wadies,  until  the  flinty  heart  of  the 
mountain  had  felt  the  sympathy  of  your  sorrow, 
repeating  with  you  the  lost  wanderer's  name.  And 
when  at  last  you  found  it  you  would  not  chide  or 
punish  it;  you  would  not  even  force  it  to  retrace  its 
steps  across  the  weary  distance,  but  taking  compassion 
on  its  weakness,  you  would  lift  it  upon  your  shoulders 
and  bear  it  rejoicing  home.  Then  forgetful  of  your 
own  weariness,  fatigue  and  anxiety  swallowed  up  in 
the  new-found  joy,  you  would  go  round  to  your 
neighbours,  to  break  the  good  news  to  them,  and  so 
all  would  rejoice  together.*' 

Such  is  the  picture,  warm  in  colour  and  instinct 
with  life,  Jesus  sketches  in  a  few  well-chosen  words. 
He  delicately  conceals  all  reference  to  Himself;  but 
even  the  chromatic  vision  of  the  Pharisees  would 
plainly  perceive  how  complete  was  its  justification  of 
His  own  conduct,  in  mingling  thus  with  the  erring  and 
the  lost ;  while  to  us  the  parable  is  but  a  veil  of  words, 
through  which  we  discern  the  form  and  features  of  the 
"  Good  Shepherd,"  who  gave  even  His  life  for  the 
sheep,  seeking  that  He  might  save  that  which  was  lost. 

The  second,  which  is  a  twin  parable,  is  from  domestic 
life.  As  in  the  parables  of  the  kingdom,  Jesus  sets 
beside  the  man  with  the  mustard-seed  the  woman  with 
her  leaven,  so  here  He  makes  the  same  distinction, 
clothing  the  Truth  both  in  a  masculine  and  a  feminine 
dress.  He  asks  again,  '*  Or  what  woman  "  (He  does 
not  lay  "  of  you,"  for  if  women  were  present  amongst 

*  Hm  w«r4  ramdcred  ''wiMerBCM"  mcuui  aay  «nd  oneBcloaed. 


320  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

His  hearers  they  would  be  in  the  background)  "  having 
ten  pieces  of  silver,  if  she  lose  one  piece,  doth  not  light 
a  lamp,  and  sweep  the  house,  and  seek  diligently  until 
she  find  it  ?  And  when  she  hath  found  it,  she  calleth 
together  her  friends  and  neighbours,  saying,  Rejoice 
with  me,  for  I  have  found  the  piece  which  I  had  lost.** 
Much  objection  has  been  taken  to  this  parable  for  its 
supposed  want  of  naturalness  and  reality.  "Is  it 
likely,"  our  objectors  say,  "  that  the  loss  of  a  small  coin 
like  a  drachma,  whose  value  was  about  seven  pence- 
halfpenny,  could  be  the  occasion  of  so  much  concern, 
and  that  its  recovery  should  be  enough  to  call  forth  the 
congratulations  of  all  the  village  matrons  ?  Surely  that 
is  not  parable,  but  hyperbole."  But  things  have  a  real 
as  well  as  an  intrinsic  value,  and  what  to  others  would 
be  common  and  cheap,  to  its  possessor  might  be  a 
treasure  beyond  reckoning,  with  all  the  added  values 
of  association  and  sentiment.  So  the  ten  drachmas  of 
the  woman  might  have  a  history ;  they  might  have 
been  a  family  heirloom,  moving  quietly  down  the 
generations,  with  whole  poems,  ay,  and  even  tragedies, 
hidden  within  them.  Or  we  can  conceive  of  a  poverty 
so  dire  and  strait  that  even  one  small  coin  in  the 
emergent  circumstance  might  grow  into  a  value  far 
beyond  its  intrinsic  worth.  But  the  parable  does  not 
need  all  these  suppositions  to  steady  it  and  keep  it 
from  falling  to  the  ground.  When  rightly  understood 
it  becomes  singularly  natural,  the  truth  of  truth,  if  such 
an  essence  can  be  distilled  in  human  speech.  The  pro- 
bable interpretation  is  that  the  ten  drachmas  were  the 
ten  coins  worn  as  a  frontlet  by  the  women  of  the  East. 
This  frontlet  was  given  by  the  bridegroom  to  the  bride 
at  the  time  of  marriage,  and  like  the  ring  of  Western 
life,  it  was  invested  with  a  kind  of  sanctity.     It  must 


ET.J  LOST  AND  BOUND.  331 

be  worn  on  all  public  occasions,  and  guarded  with  a 
jealous,  sacred  care ;  for  should  one  of  its  pieces  be 
lost,  it  would  be  regarded  as  an  indication  that  the 
possessor  had  not  only  been  careless,  but  also  that  she 
had  been  unfaithful  to  her  marriage  vow.  Throwing, 
then,  this  light  of  Eastern  custom  upon  the  parable, 
how  vivid  and  lifelike  it  becomes  I  With  what  intense 
eagerness  would  she  seek  for  the  missing  coin  1  Light- 
ing her  lamp — for  the  house  would  be  but  dimly  lighted 
with  its  open  door  and  its  small  unglazed  window — how 
carefully  and  almost  tremblingly  she  would  peer  along 
its  shelves,  and  sweep  out  the  corners  of  her  few 
rooms !  and  how  great  would  be  her  joy  as  she  saw 
it  glistening  in  the  dust  I  Her  whole  soul  would  go 
out  after  it,  as  if  it  were  a  living,  sentient  thing.  She 
would  clasp  it  in  her  hand,  and  even  press  it  to  her 
lips  ;  for  has  it  not  taken  a  heavy  care  and  sorrow  from 
her  heart  ?  That  one  coin  rising  from  the  dust  has 
been  to  her  like  the  rising  of  another  sun,  filling  her 
home  with  light  and  her  life  with  melody ;  and  what 
wonder  that  she  hastens  to  communicate  her  joy,  as, 
standing  by  her  door,  after  the  Eastern  wont,  she  holds 
up  the  missing  treasure,  and  calls  on  her  neighbours 
and  friends  (the  substantives  are  feminine  now)  to 
rejoice  with  her. 

The  third  parable  carries  the  thought  still  higher, 
forming  the  crown  of  the  ascending  series.  Not  only 
is  there  a  mathematical  progression,  as  the  lost  fraction 
increases  from  one-hundredth  to  one-tenth,  and  then 
to  one-half  of  the  whole,  but  the  intrinsic  value  of  the 
loss  rises  in  a  corresponding  series.  In  the  first  it 
was  a  lost  sheep,  a  loss  which  might  soon  be  replaced, 
and  which  would  soon  be  forgotten  ;  in  the  second  it 
was  a  lost  coin,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  meant  the  loss 

21 


3M  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

of  what  was  more  valuable  than  gold,  even  honour  and 
character;  while  in  the  third  it  is  a  lost  child.  We 
call  it  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son  ;  it  might  with 
equal  propriety  be  called  the  Parable  of  the  Bereaved 
Father,  for  the  whole  story  crystallizes  about  that 
name,  repeating  it,  in  one  form  or  another,  no  less  than 
twelve  times. 

"  A  certain  man,"  so  begins  this  parabolic  Paternoster^ 
'*  had  two  sons."  Tired  of  the  restraints  of  home  and 
the  surveillance  of  the  father's  eye,  the  younger  of 
them  determined  to  see  the  world  for  himself,  in  order, 
as  the  sequel  shows,  that  he  might  have  a  free  hand, 
and  give  loose  reins  to  his  passions.  With  a  cold, 
impertinent  bluntness,  he  says  to  the  father,  whose 
death  he  thus  anticipates,  "  Father,  give  me  the  portion 
of  thy  substance  that  falleth  to  me,"  a  command 
whose  sharp,  imperative  tone  shows  but  too  plainly 
the  proud,  masterful  spirit  of  the  youth.  He  respects 
neither  age  nor  law;  for  though  the  paternal  estate 
could  be  divided  during  the  father's  life,  no  son,  much 
less  the  younger,  had  any  right  to  demand  it  The 
father  grants  the  request,  dividing  "  unto  them,"  as  it 
reads,  **  his  living ;  "  for  the  same  line  which  marks  off 
the  portion  of  the  younger  marks  out  too  that  of  the 
elder  son,  though  he  holds  his  portion  as  yet  only  in 
promise.  Not  many  days  after — for  having  found  its 
wings,  the  foolish  bird  is  in  haste  to  fly — the  youth 
gathers  all  together,  and  then  takes  his  journey  into 
a  far  country.  The  down  grades  of  hfe  are  generally 
steep  and  short,  and  so  one  sentence  is  enough  to 
describe  this  descensus  Avemi,  down  which  the  youth 
plunges  so  insanely :  "  He  wasted  his  substance  with 
riotous  living,"  scattering  it,  as  the  verb  means,  throw- 
ing it  away  after  low,  illicit  pleasures.     **  And  when  ke 


jnr.J  LOST  AND  FOUND.  323 

had  spent  all" — the  "all"  he  had  scrambled  for  and 
gathered  a  short  while  before — "  there  arose  a  mighty 
famine  in  that  country ;  and  he  began  to  be  in  want ; " 
and  so  great  were  his  straits,  so  remorseless  the  pangs 
of  hunger,  that  he  was  glad  to  attach  himself  to  a 
citizen  of  that  country  as  swineherd,  living  out  in  the 
fields  with  his  drove,  like  the  swineherds  of  Gadara. 
But  such  was  the  pressure  of  the  famine  that  his  mere 
pittance  could  not  cope  with  famine  prices,  and  again 
and  again  he  hungered  to  have  his  fill  of  the  carob- 
pods,  which  were  dealt  out  statedly  and  sparingly  to  the 
swine.  But  no  man  gave  even  these  to  him ;  he  was 
forgotten,  as  one  already  dead. 

Such  is  the  picture  Jesus  draws  of  the  lost  man,  a 
picture  of  abject  misery  and  degradation.  When  the 
sheep  wandered  it  strayed  unwittingly,  blindly,  get- 
ting farther  from  its  fellows  and  its  fold  even  when 
bleating  vainly  for  them.  When  the  drachma  was  lost 
it  did  not  lose  itself,  nor  had  it  any  consciousness  that 
it  had  dropped  out  of  its  proper  environment.  But  in 
the  case  of  the  lost  man  it  was  altogether  different. 
Here  it  is  a  wilful  perversity,  which  breaks  through  the 
restraints  of  home,  tramples  upon  its  endearments,  and 
throws  up  a  blighted  life,  scarred  and  pealed  amid  the 
husks  and  swine  of  a  far  country.  And  it  is  this 
element  of  perversity,  self-will,  which  explains,  as 
indeed  it  necessitates,  another  marked  difference  in 
the  parables.  When  the  sheep  and  the  drachma  were 
lost  there  was  an  eager  search,  as  the  shepherd  fol- 
lowed the  wanderer  over  the  mountain  gullies,  and  the 
woman  with  broom  and  lamp  went  after  the  lost  coin. 
But  when  the  youth  is  lost,  flinging  himself  away,  the 
father  does  not  follow  him,  except  in  thought,  and  love, 
and  prayer.     He  sits  "still  in  the  house,"  nursing  a 


334  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

bitter  grief,  and  the  work  on  the  farm  goes  on  just 
as  usual,  for  the  service  of  the  younger  brother  would 
probably  be  not  much  missed.  And  why  does  not  the 
father  summon  his  servants,  bidding  them  go  after  the 
lost  child,  bringing  him  home,  if  necessary,  by  force? 
Simply  because  such  a  finding  would  be  no  finding. 
They  might  indeed  carry  the  wanderer  home,  setting 
down  his  feet  by  the  familiar  door;  but  of  what  use 
is  that  if  his  heart  is  still  wayward  and  his  will  rebel- 
lious ?  Home  would  not  be  home  to  him ;  and  with 
his  heart  in  the  far  country,  he  would  walk  even  in 
his  father's  fields  and  in  his  father's  house  as  an  alien, 
a  foreigner.  And  so  all  embassies,  all  messages  would 
be  in  vain ;  and  even  a  father's  love  can  do  no  more 
than  wait,  patiently  and  prayerfully,  in  hopes  that  a 
better  spirit  may  yet  come  over  him,  and  that  some 
rebound  of  feeling  may  bring  him  home,  a  humbled 
penitent.  The  change  comes  at  length,  and  the  slow 
morning  dawns. 

When  the  photographer  wishes  to  develop  the  picture 
that  is  hidden  in  the  film  of  the  sensitive  plate  he 
carries  it  to  a  darkened  room,  and  bathed  in  the  de- 
veloping solution  the  latent  image  gradually  appears, 
even  to  the  minutest  details.  It  was  so  here;  for 
when  in  his  extremest  need,  with  the  pinch  of  a  fearful 
hunger  upon  him,  and  the  felt  darkness  of  a  painful 
isolation  surrounding  him,  there  came  into  the  prodigal's 
soul  a  sweet  picture  of  the  far-away  home,  the  home 
which  might  still  have  been  his  but  for  his  wantonness, 
but  which  is  his  now  only  in  memory.  It  is  true  his 
first  thoughts  of  that  home  were  not  very  lofty ;  they 
only  crouched  with  the  dogs  under  the  father's  table, 
or  hovered  around  the  plentiful  board  of  the  servants, 
attracted  by  the  **  bread  enough  and  to  spare."    But  such 


iv.J  LOST  AND  FOUND,  3*5 

is  the  natural  association  of  ideas ;  the  carob-pods  of 
the  swine  naturally  suggest  the  bread  of  the  servants, 
while  this  in  turn  opens  up  all  the  chambers  of  the 
father's  house,  reviving  its  half-faded  images  of  happi- 
ness and  love,  and  awaking  all  the  sweet  memories 
that  sin  had  stifled  and  silenced.  That  it  was  so  here, 
the  lower  leading  up  to  the  higher  thought,  is  evident 
from  the  young  man's  soliloquy :  "  I  will  arise  and  go 
to  my  father,  and  will  say  unto  him.  Father,  I  have 
sinned  against  Heaven  and  in  thy  sight  :  I  am  no  more 
worthy  to  be  called  thy  son :  make  me  as  one  of  thy 
hired  servants."  The  hunger  for  the  servants'  bread 
is  all  forgotten  now,  swallowed  up  in  the  hunger  of 
the  soul,  as  it  pines  for  the  father's  presence  and  for 
the  father's  smile,  longing  for  the  lost  Eden.  The 
very  name  '*  father"  strikes  with  a  strange  music  upon 
his  awakened  and  penitent  soul,  making  him  for  the 
time  half-oblivious  to  his  present  wretchedness ;  and 
as  Memory  recalls  a  bright  but  vanished  past,  Hope 
peoples  the  dark  sky  with  a  heavenly  host,  who  sing 
a  new  Advent,  the  dawn  of  a  heavenly  day.  An 
Advent?  Perhaps  it  was  an  Easter  rather,  with  a 
''resurrection  from  earth  to  things  above,"  an  Easter 
whose  anthem,  in  songs  without  end,  was,  "  I  will 
arise  and  go  to  my  father,"  that  Resurgam  of  a  new 
and  holier  life. 

No  sooner  is  the  "  I  will "  spoken  than  there  is  a 
reversing  of  all  the  wheels.  The  hands  follow  whither 
the  heart  has  gone ;  the  feet  shake  off  the  dust  of  the 
far  country,  retracing  the  steps  they  measured  so 
foolishly  and  lightly  before;  while  the  eyes,  washed 
by  their  bitter  tears — 

**  Not  backward  arc  their  glances  bent. 
But  onward  to  the  Father's  house." 


326  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

"And  he  arose  and  came  to  his  father."  He  came 
to  himself  first ;  and  having  found  that  better  self,  he 
became  conscious  of  the  void  he  had  not  felt  before. 
For  the  first  time  he  realizes  how  much  the  father 
is  to  him,  and  how  terrible  the  bereavement  and  loss 
he  inflicted  upon  himself  when  he  put  between  that 
father  and  himself  the  desert  of  an  awful  distance. 
And  as  the  bright  memories  of  other  days  flash 
up  within  his  soul,  like  the  converging  rays  of  a 
borealis,  they  all  turn  towards  and  centre  in  the  father. 
Servants,  home,  and  loaves  of  bread  alike  speak  of 
him  whose  very  shadow  is  brightness  to  the  self- 
orphaned  child.  He  yearns  for  the  father's  presence 
with  a  strange  and  intense  yearning ;  and  could  that 
presence  be  his  again,  even  if  he  were  nothing  more 
than  a  servant,  with  but  casual  interviews,  hearing 
his  voice  but  in  its  commanding  tones,  he  would  be 
content  and  happy. 

And  so  he  comes  and  seeks  the  father;  will  the 
father  relent  and  receive  him?  Can  he  overlook  and 
forgive  the  waywardness  and  wantonness  which  have 
embittered  his  old  age  ?  Can  he  receive  him  back  even 
as  a  servant,  a  child  who  has  scorned  his  authority, 
slighted  his  love,  and  squandered  his  substance  in 
riotous  living?  Does  the  father  say,  "  He  has  made  his 
own  bed,  and  he  must  lie  upon  it ;  he  has  had  his  portion, 
even  to  the  swept-up  crumbs,  and  there  is  nothing  left 
for  him  now  "  ?  No,  for  there  is  something  left,  a  trea- 
sure which  he  might  scorn,  indeed,  but  which  he  could 
not  throw  away,  even  a  heritage  of  love.  And  what  a 
picture  the  parable  draws  of  the  love  that  hopeth  and 
endureth  all  things !  "  But  while  he  was  yet  afar  off, 
his  father  saw  him,  and  was  moved  with  compassioni 
and  ran,  and  fell  on  his  neck,  and  kissed  him.*     As  the 


XV.]  LOST  AND  FOUND.  327 

moon  in  her  revolutions  lifts  up  the  tides,  drawing  the 
deep  oceans  to  herself,  so  do  the  unsounded  depths  of 
the  father's  heart  turn  towards  the  prodigal  whose  life 
has  set,  dropping  out  of  sight  behind  wildernesses  of 
darkness.  Thought,  prayer,  pity,  compassion,  love  flow 
out  towards  the  attraction  they  can  no  longer  see. 
Nay,  it  seems  as  if  the  father's  vision  were  transfixed 
riveted  to  the  spot  where  the  form  of  his  erring  lad 
vanished  out  of  sight;  for  no  sooner  has  the  youth 
come  within  sight  of  the  home,  than  the  father's  eyes, 
made  telescopic  with  love,  discern  him,  and  as  if  by 
intuition,  recognize  him,  even  though  his  attire  be  mean 
and  tattered,  and  his  step  has  no  longer  the  lightness 
of  innocence  nor  the  firmness  of  integrity.  It  is,  it  is 
his  child,  the  erring  but  now  repenting  child,  and  the 
pent-up  emotions  of  the  father's  soul  rush  out  as  in  a 
tumultuous  freshet  to  meet  him.  He  even  *'ran"  to 
meet  him,  all  forgetful  of  the  dignity  of  years,  and 
throwing  himself  upon  his  neck,  he  kissed  him,  not 
either  with  the  cold  kiss  of  courtesy,  but  with  the 
warm,  fervent  kiss  of  love,  as  the  intensive  prefix  of 
the  verb  implies. 

So  far  this  scene  of  reconciliation  has  been  as  a  dumb 
show.  The  storm  of  emotion  so  interrupted  the  electric 
flow  of  quiet  thought  and  speech  that  no  word  was 
spoken  in  the  mutual  embrace.  When,  however,  the 
power  of  speech  returns  the  youth  is  the  first  to  break 
the  silence.  "  Father,"  he  said,  repeating  the  words  of 
his  mental  resolve  when  in  the  far  country,  "I  have 
sinned  against  Heaven,  and  in  thy  sight :  I  am  no  more 
worthy  to  be  called  thy  son."  It  is  no  longer  the  sense 
of  physical  need,  but  the  deeper  sense  of  guilt,  that 
now  presses  upon  his  soul.  The  moral  nature,  which 
by  the  anodynes  of  sin  had  been  thrown  into  a  state  of 


32«  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

coma,  awakes  to  a  vivid  consciousness,  and  in  the  new 
awakening,  in  the  broadening  light  of  the  new  dawn, 
he  sees  one  thing  only,  and  that  is  his  sin,  a  sin  which 
has  thrown  its  blackness  over  the  wasted  years,  which 
has  embittered  a  father's  heart,  and  which  cast  its 
shadow  even  into  heaven  itself.  Nor  is  it  the  convic- 
tion of  sin  only ;  there  is  a  full  and  frank  confession  of 
it,  with  no  attempt  at  palliation  or  excuse.  He  does 
not  seek  to  gloss  it  over,  but  smiting  his  breast  with 
bitter  reproaches,  he  confesses  his  sin  with  "  a  humble, 
lowly,  penitent,  and  obedient  heart,"  hoping  for  the 
mercy  and  forgiveness  he  is  conscious  he  does  not 
deserve.  Nor  does  he  hope  in  vain.  Even  before  the 
confession  is  completed,  the  absolution  is  spoken, 
virtually  at  least;  for  without  allowing  the  youth  to 
finish  his  sentence,  in  which  he  offers  to  renounce  his 
sonship  and  to  accept  a  menial  position,  the  father  calls 
to  the  servants,  "Bring  forth  quickly  the  best  robe, 
and  put  it  on  him;  and  put  a  ring  on  his  hand,  and 
shoes  on  his  feet :  and  bring  the  fatted  calf,  and  kill  it, 
and  let  us  eat  and  make  merry."  In  this  peal  of  im- 
peratives we  detect  the  rapid  beating  of  the  father's 
heart,  the  loving,  eager  haste  to  wipe  out  all  the  sad 
marks  that  sin  has  left.  In  the  luminous  atmosphere 
of  the  father's  love  the  youth  is  no  more  the  prodigal ; 
he  is  as  one  transfigured ;  and  now  that  the  chrysahs 
has  left  the  mire,  and  crept  up  into  the  sunlight,  it  must 
have  a  dress  befitting  its  new  summer  life,  wings  of 
gauze,  and  robes  of  rainbow  hues.  The  best,  or  "  the 
first  robe "  as  it  is  in  the  Greek,  must  be  brought  out 
for  him;  a  signet-ring,  the  pledge  of  authority,  must 
be  put  upon  his  hand;  shoes,  the  badge  of  freedom, 
must  be  found  for  the  tired  and  bared  feet;  while  for 
the  merry-making  which  is  extemporized,  the  domestic 


w.  LOST  AND  FOUND.  329 

festa  which  is  the  crown  of  these  rejoicings,  the  fatted 
calf,  which  was  in  reserve  for  some  high  festival,  must 
be  killed.  And  all  this  is  spoken  in  a  breath,  in  a  sort 
of  bewilderment,  the  ecstasy  of  an  excessive  joy ;  and 
forgetting  that  the  simple  command  is  enough  for 
servants,  the  master  must  needs  tell  out  his  joy  to 
them :  "  For  this  my  son  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again  ; 
he  was  lost,  and  is  found." 

If  the  three  parables  were  all  through  coincident,  the 
Parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son  should  close  at  this  point, 
the  curtain  dropping  over  the  festive  scene,  where  songs, 
and  music,  and  the  rhythm  of  the  dance  are  the  outward 
and  weak  expressions  of  the  father's  joy  over  the  son 
who  comes  back  from  the  far  country,  as  one  alive  from 
the  dead.  But  Jesus  has  another  purpose;  He  must 
not  only  plead  the  cause  of  the  outcast  and  the  low, 
setting  open  for  them  the  door  of  mercy  and  of  hope ; 
He  must  also  rebuke  and  silence  the  unreasoning 
murmur  of  the  Pharisees  and  scribes — which  He  does 
in  the  picture  of  the  Elder  Brother.  Coming  from  the 
field,  the  heir  is  surprised  to  find  the  whole  house  given 
up  to  an  impromptu  feast.  He  hears  the  sounds  of 
merriment  and  music,  but  its  strains  fall  strange  and 
harsh  upon  his  ear.  What  can  it  mean  ?  Why  was 
he  not  consulted  ?  Why  should  his  father  thus  take 
occasion  of  his  absence  in  the  fields  to  invite  his  friends 
and  neighbours  ?  The  proud  spirit  chafes  under  the 
slight,  and  calling  one  of  the  servants,  he  asks  what 
it  all  means.  The  answer  is  not  reassuring,  for  it  only 
perplexes  and  pains  him  the  more  :  *'  Thy  brother  is 
come ;  and  thy  father  hath  killed  the  fatted  calf,  because 
he  hath  received  him  safe  and  sound  " — an  answer 
which  does  but  deepen  his  displeasure,  turning  his 
sullenness  to  anger.     "  And  would  not  go  in."     They 


33©  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

may  end  the  feast,  as  they  began  it,  without  him.  The 
festive  joy  is  something  foreign  to  his  nature ;  it  awakes 
but  feelings  of  repulsion,  and  all  its  music  is  to  him  a 
grating  discord,  a  Miserere, 

But  let  us  not  be  too  severe  upon  the  elder  brother. 
He  was  not  perfect,  by  any  means,  but  in  any  appraise- 
ment of  his  character  there  are  certain  veinings  of 
worth  and  nobleness  that  must  not  be  omitted.  We 
have  already  seen  how,  in  the  division  of  the  father's 
goods,  when  he  divided  unto  them  his  living,  while  the 
younger  took  away  his  portion,  and  swiftly  scattered  it 
in  riotous  living,  the  elder  brother  took  no  advantage 
of  the  deed  of  gift.  He  did  not  dispossess  the  father, 
securing  for  himself  the  paternal  estate.  He  put  it  back 
into  his  father's  hands,  content  with  the  filial  relation 
of  dependence  and  obedience.  The  father's  word  was 
still  his  law.  He  was  the  dutiful  son ;  and  when  he 
said,  "  These  many  years  do  I  serve  thee,  and  I  never 
transgressed  a  commandment  of  thine,"  the  boast  was 
no  exaggeration,  but  the  statement  of  a  simple  truth. 
Compared  with  the  life  of  the  prodigal,  the  life  of  the 
elder  brother  had  been  consistent,  conscientious,  and 
moral.  Where,  then,  was  his  failure,  his  lack  ?  It  was 
just  here,  in  the  lack  of  heart,  the  absence  of  affection. 
He  bore  the  name  of  a  son,  but  he  carried  the  heart  of 
a  servant  His  nature  was  servile,  rather  than  filial  ; 
and  while  his  hands  offered  a  service  unremitting  and 
precise,  it  was  the  cold  service  of  an  impassive  mechan- 
ism. Instead  of  love  passing  out  in  living  heart-throbs, 
suffusing  all  the  life  with  its  warmth,  and  clothing  it  in 
its  own  iridescent  colouring,  it  was  only  a  metallic 
mainspring  called  "duty."  The  father's  presence  is 
not  the  delight  to  him ;  he  does  not  once  mention  that 
tender  name  in  which  the  repenting  one  finds  such  a 


iv.J  LOST  AND  FOUND,  331 

heaven  ;  and  when  he  draws  the  picture  of  his  highest 
happiness,  the  feast  of  his  earthly  Walhalla,  "my 
friends"  are  there,  though  the  father  is  excluded. 
And  so  between  the  father  and  the  elder  brother, 
with  all  this  seeming  nearness,  there  was  a  distance 
of  reserve,  and  where  the  voices  of  affection  and  of 
constant  communion  should  have  been  heard  there  was 
too  often  a  vacancy  of  silence.  It  takes  a  heart  to  read 
a  heart ;  and  since  this  was  wanting  in  the  elder 
brother,  he  could  not  know  the  heart  of  the  father; 
he  could  not  understand  his  wild  joy.  He  had  no 
patience  with  his  younger  brother ;  and  had  he  re- 
ceived him  back  at  all,  it  would  have  been  with  a 
haughty  stiffness,  and  with  a  lowering  in  his  looks, 
which  should  have  been  at  once  a  rebuke  for  the  past 
and  a  warning  for  the  future.  The  father  looked  on 
his  son's  repentance ;  the  elder  brother  did  not  regard 
the  repentance  at  all ;  perhaps  he  had  not  heard  of  it, 
or  perhaps  he  could  not  understand  it ;  it  was  some- 
thing that  lay  out  of  the  plane  of  his  consciousness. 
He  saw  the  sin  only,  how  the  younger  son  had  devoured 
his  living  with  harlots ;  and  so  he  was  severe,  exacting, 
bitter.  He  would  have  brought  out  the  sackcloth,  but 
nothing  more;  while  as  to  the  music  and  the  fatted 
calf,  they  would  appear  to  his  loveless  soul  as  an  absurd 
anachronism. 

But  far  removed  as  he  is  from  the  father's  spirit,  he 
is  still  his  son ;  and  though  the  father  rejoices  more 
over  the  younger  than  over  the  elder,  as  was  but 
natural,  he  loves  them  both  with  an  equal  love.  He 
cannot  bear  that  there  should  be  any  estrangement 
now;  and  he  even  leaves  the  festive  throng,  and  the 
son  he  has  welcomed  and  robed,  and  going  out,  he  b^^ 
he  entreats  the  elder  brother  to  pass  in,  and  to  throw 


33*  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

himself  into  the  general  joy.  And  when  the  elder  son 
complains  that,  with  all  his  years  of  obedient,  dutiful 
service,  he  has  never  had  even  a  kid,  much  less  a  fatted 
calf,  on  which  to  feast  his  friends,  the  father  says, 
lovingly,  but  chidingly,  "Son  " — or  "  Child,"  rather,  for 
it  is  a  term  of  greater  endearment  than  the  "  son  "  he 
had  just  used  before — "thou  art  ever  with  me,  and  all 
that  is  mine  is  thine.  But  it  was  meet  to  make  merry 
and  be  glad  :  for  this  thy  brother  was  dead,  and  is  alive 
again  ;  and  was  lost,  and  is  found."  He  plays  upon  the 
"  child  "  as  upon  a  harp,  that  he  may  drive  away  the 
evil  spirits  of  jealousy  and  anger,  and  that  even  within 
the  servant-heart  he  may  awake  some  chords,  if  only 
the  far-off  echoes  of  a  lost  childhood.  He  reminds  him 
how  vastly  different  their  two  positions  are.  For  him 
there  has  been  no  break-  in  their  intercourse;  the 
father's  house  has  been  his  home ;  he  has  had  the  free 
range  of  all :  to  the  younger  that  home  has  been  no- 
thing but  a  distant  memory,  with  a  waste  of  dreary  years 
between.  He  has  been  heir  and  lord  of  all;  and  so 
completely  have  father  and  son  been  identified,  their 
separate  personalities  merged  the  one  in  the  other,  that 
the  possessive  pronouns,  the  "  mine  "  and  the  "  thine," 
are  used  interchangeably.  The  younger  returns  penni- 
less, disinherited  by  his  own  misdeed.  Nay,  he  has 
been  as  one  dead ;  for  what  was  the  far  country  but  a 
vault  of  slimy  things,  the  sepulchre  of  a  dead  soul  ? 
"  And  should  we  not  make  merry  and  be  glad,  when 
thy  brother"  (it  is  the  antithesis  to  "thy  son"  of 
ver.  30,  a  mutual  "  thy ")  "  comes  back  to  us  as  one 
raised  from  the  dead  ?  " 

Whether  the  father's  pleading  prevailed,  or  not,  we 
are  not  told.  We  can  but  hope  it  did,  and  that  the 
elder  brother,  with  his  asperities  all  dissolved,  and  his 


KV.]  LOST  AND  FOUND.  333 

jealousies  removed,  did  pass  within  to  share  the  general 
joy,  and  to  embrace  a  lost  brother.  Then  he  too  would 
know  the  sweetness  of  forgiveness,  and  taught  by  the 
erring  but  now  forgiven  one,  he  too  would  learn  to 
spell  out  more  correctly  that  deep  word  "  father,"  the 
word  he  had  stammered  at,  and  perhaps  misspelt 
before,  as  the  fatherhood  and  the  brotherhood  became 
to  him  not  ideas  merely,  but  bright  realities. 

Gathering  up  now  the  lessons  of  the  parables,  they 
show  us  (i)  the  Divine  grief  over  sin.  In  the  first 
two  this  is  the  prominent  thought,  the  sorrow  of  the 
loser.  God  is  represented  as  losing  that  which  is  of 
worth  to  Him,  something  serviceable,  and  therefore 
valuable.  In  the  third  parable  the  same  idea  is  sug- 
gested rather  than  stated ;  but  the  thought  is  carried 
farther,  for  now  it  is  more  than  a  loss,  it  is  a  bereave- 
ment the  father  suffers.  The  retreating  form  of  the 
wanderer  throws  back  its  shadow  across  the  father's 
home  and  heart,  a  shadow  that  congeals  and  stays,  and 
that  is  darker  than  the  shadow  of  Death  itself.  It  is 
the  Divine  Grief,  whose  depths  we  cannot  sound,  and 
from  whose  mystery  we  must  stand  back,  not  one 
stone's  cast,  but  many. 

The  parables  show  (2)  the  sad  state  of  the  sinner. 
In  the  case  of  the  Lost  Sheep  and  the  Lost  Coin  we 
see  his  perfect  helplessness  to  recover  himself,  and 
that  he  must  remain  lost,  unless  One  higher  than  him- 
self undertakes  his  cause,  and  *'  help  is  laid  upon  One 
that  is  mighty."  It  is  the  third  parable,  however, 
which  especially  emphasizes  the  downward  course  of 
sin  and  the  deepening  wretchedness  of  the  sinner. 
The  flowery  path  leads  on  to  a  valley  of  desolation. 
The  way  of  transgressors  is  ever  a  downward  path; 
and  let  an  evil  spirit  possess  a  soul,  it  hurries  him 


334  ^"^^  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE, 

directly  down  the  steep  place,  where,  unless  the  flight 
be  checked,  a  certain  destruction  awaits  him.  Sin 
degrades  and  isolates.  Want,  sorrow,  penury,  and 
pain  are  but  a  part  of  its  viperous  brood,  and  he  who 
plays  with  sin,  calling  it  freedom,  will  find  his  rod 
blossom  with  bitter  fruit,  or  he  will  see  it  grow  into 
a  serpent  with  poison  in  its  fangs. 

The  parables  show  (3)  God's  willingness  and  eager- 
ness to  save.  The  long  and  eager  search  after  the 
lost  sheep  and  the  lost  coin  show,  though  but  im- 
perfectly, the  supreme  efforts  God  makes  for  man's 
salvation.  He  is  not  left  to  wander  unrebuked  and 
unsought.  There  is  no  forbidden  path  along  which 
men  insanely  rush,  but  some  bright  angel  stands  beside 
it,  warning  back  the  sinner,  it  may  be  with  a  drawn 
sword,  some  "  terror  of  the  Lord,"  or  it  may  be  with 
a  cross,  the  sacrifice  of  an  infinite  love.  Though  He 
could  send  His  armies  to  destroy,  He  sends  His  mes- 
sengers to  win  us  back  to  obedience  and  to  love — 
Conscience,  Memory,  Reason,  the  Word,  the  Spirit,  and 
even  the  well-beloved  Son.  Nor  is  the  great  search 
discontinued,  until  it  has  proved  to  be  in  vain. 

The  parables  show  (4)  the  eager  interest  Heaven 
takes  in  man's  salvation,  and  the  deep  joy  there  is 
among  the  angels  over  his  repentance  and  recovery. 
And  so  the  three  parables  close  with  2i  Jubilate,  The 
shepherd  rejoices  over  his  recovered  sheep  more  than 
over  the  ninety  and  nine  which  went  not  astray;  the 
woman  rejoices  over  the  one  coin  found  more  than 
over  the  nine  which  were  not  lost.  And  this  is  per- 
fectly natural.  The  joy  of  acquisition  is  more  than 
the  joy  of  possession ;  and  as  the  crest  of  the  waves 
is  thrown  up  above  the  mean  sea-level  by  the  alternate 
depths  of  depression,  so  the  very  sorrow  and  grief 


Kf.J  LOST  AND  FOUND,  335 

over 'the  loss  and  bereavement,  now  that  the  lost  is 
found  and  the  dead  is  alive,  throw  up  the  emotions 
beyond  their  mean  level,  up  to  the  summits  of  an 
exuberant  joy.  And  whether  Jesus  meant,  by  the 
ninety  and  nine  just  persons  who  needed  no  repentance, 
the  unfallen  intelligences  of  heaven,  or  whether,  as 
Godet  thinks.  He  referred  to  those  who  under  the 
Old  Covenant  were  sincere  doers  of  the  Law,  and 
who  found  their  righteousness  therein  (Deut  vi.  25), 
it  is  still  true,  and  a  truth  stamped  with  a  Divine 
"  Verily,"  that  more  than  the  joy  of  Heaven  over  these 
is  its  joy  over  the  sinner  that  repented,  the  dead  who 
now  was  alive,  and  the  lost  who  now  was  found  ! 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

THE  ETHICS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

WHATEVER  of  truth  there  may  be  in  the  charge 
of  "  other-worldliness/*  as  brought  against  the 
modem  exponents  of  Christianity,  such  a  charge  couid 
not  even  be  whispered  against  its  Divine  Founder.  It 
IS  just  possible  that  the  Church  had  been  gazing  too 
steadfastly  up  into  heaven,  and  that  she  had  not  been 
studying  the  science  of  the  "  Humanities  "  as  zealously 
as  she  ought,  and  as  she  has  done  since ;  but  Jesus  did 
not  allow  even  heavenly  things  to  obliterate  or  to  blur 
the  lines  of  earthly  duty.  We  might  have  supposed 
that  coming  down  from  heaven,  and  famJHar  with  its 
secrets.  He  would  have  much  to  say  about  the  New 
World,  its  position  in  space,  its  society  and  manner  of 
Hfe.  But  no ;  Jesus  says  little  about  the  life  which  is 
to  come ;  it  is  the  hfe  which  now  is  that  engrosses  His 
attention,  and  almost  monopolizes  His  speech.  Life 
with  Him  was  not  in  the  future  tense;  it  was  one 
living  present,  real,  earnest,  but  fugitive.  Indeed,  that 
future  was  but  the  present  projected  over  into  eternity. 
And  so  Jesus,  founding  the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth, 
and  summoning  all  men  into  it,  if  he  did  not  bring 
commandments  written  and  lithographed,  like  Moses, 
yet  He  did  lay  down  principles  and  rules  of  conduct, 
marking   out,  in  all  departments  of  human   life,  the 


THE  ETHICS  OF  THE  GOSPEL.  zyj 

straig!..  and  white  lines  of  duty,  the  eternal  "  ought." 
it  is  true  that  Jesus  Himself  did  not  originate  much  in 
this  department  of  Christian  ethics,  and  probably  for 
most  of  His  sayings  we  can  find  a  symphony  struck 
from  the  pages  of  earlier,  and  perhaps  heathen  moralists; 
but  in  the  wide  realm  of  Right  there  can  be  no  new  law. 
Principles  may  be  evolved,  interpreted ;  they  cannot  be 
created.  Right,  like  Truth,  holds  the  "  eternal  years ; " 
and  through  the  millenniums  before  Christ,  as  through 
the  millenniums  after.  Conscience,  that  "  ethical  intellect" 
which  speaks  to  all  men  if  they  will  but  draw  near  to 
her  Sinai  and  listen,  spoke  to  some  in  clear,  authorita- 
tive tones.  But  if  Jesus  did  no  more.  He  gathered  up 
the  "  broken  lights  "  of  earth,  the  intermittent  flashes 
which  had  played  on  the  horizon  before,  into  one 
steady  electric  beam,  which  lights  up  our  human  life 
outward  to  its  farthest  reach,  and  onward  to  its  farthest 
goal. 

In  the  mind  of  Jesus  conduct  was  the  outward  and 
visible  expression  of  some  inner  invisible  force.  As 
our  earth  moves  round  its  elliptic  in  obedience  to  the 
subtle  attractions  of  other  outlying  worlds,  so  the  orbits 
of  human  lives,  whether  symmetrical  or  eccentric,  are 
determined  mainly  by  the  two  forces'  Character  and 
Circumstance.  Conduct  is  character  in  motion ;  for 
men  do  what  they  themselves  are,  i.e,  as  far  as  cir- 
cumstances will  allow.  And  it  is  just  at  this  point  the 
ethical  teaching  of  Jesus  begins.  He  recognizes  the 
imperium  in  imperio,  that  hidden  world  of  thought, 
feeHng,  sentiment,  and  desire  which,  itself  invisible,  is 
the  mould  in  which  things  visible  are  cast.  And  so 
Jesus,  in  His  influence  upon  men,  worked  outward  from 
within.  He  sought,  not  reform,  but  regeneration, 
moulding  the  life  by  changing  the  character;    for,  to 

22 


338  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

use    His   own   figure,   how   could   the   thorn   produce 
grapes,  or  the  thistle  figs? 

And  so  when  Jesus  was  asked,  "What  shall  I  do 
that  I  may  inherit  eternal  life  ?  "  He  gave  an  answer 
which  at  first  sight  seemed  to  ignore  the  question 
entirely.  He  said  no  word  about  "  doing,"  but  threw 
the  questioner  back  upon  *'  being,"  asking  what  was 
written  in  the  law:  "Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 
God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with 
all  thy  strength,  and  with  all  thy  mind ;  and  thy  neigh- 
bour as  thyself"  (x.  27).  And  as  Jesus  here  makes 
Love  the  condition  of  eternal  life,  its  sine  qua  non,  so 
He  makes  it  the  one  all-embracing  duty,  the  fulfiUing 
of  the  law.  If  a  man  love  God  supremely,  and  his 
neighbour  as  himself,  he  cannot  do  more  ;  for  all  other 
commandments  are  included  in  these,  the  sub-sections 
of  the  greater  law.  Jesus  thus  sought  to  create  a  new 
force,  hiding  it  within  the  heart,  as  the  mainspring  of 
duty,  providing  for  that  duty  both  aim  and  inspiration. 
We  call  it  a  "  new  "  force,  and  such  it  was  practically ; 
for  though  it  was,  in  a  way,  embedded  in  their  law,  it 
was  mainly  as  a  dead  letter,  so  much  so  that  when 
Jesus  bade  His  disciples  to  "love  one  another"  He 
called  it  a  "  new  commandment."  Here,  then,  we  find 
what  is  at  once  the  rule  of  conduct  and  its  motive.  In 
the  new  system  of  ethics,  as  taught  and  enforced  by 
Jesus,  and  illustrated  by  His  life,  the  Law  of  Love  was 
to  be  supreme.  It  was  to  be  to  the  moral  world  what 
gravitation  is  to  the  natural,  a  silent  but  mighty  and 
all-pervasive  force,  throwing  its  spell  upon  the  isolated 
actions  of  the  common  day,  giving  impulse  and  direc- 
tion to  the  whole  current  of  life,  ruling  alike  the  little 
eddies  of  thought  and  the  wider  sweeps  of  benevolent 
activities.     To  Jesus  "  the  soul  of  improvement  was  the 


THE  ETHICS   OF  THE   GOSPEL,  339 

improvement  of  the  soul."  He  laid  His  hand  upon  the 
heart's  innermost  shrine,  building  up  that  unseen  temple 
four-square,  like  the  city  of  the  Apocalypse,  and  light- 
ing up  all  its  windows  with  the  warm,  iridescent  light 
of  love. 

With  this,  then,  as  the  foundation-tone,  running 
through  all  the  spaces  and  along  all  the  lines  of  life,  the 
thoughts,  desires,  words,  and  acts  must  all  harmonize 
with  love  ;  and  if  they  do  not,  if  they  strike  a  note  that 
is  foreign  to  its  key-tone,  it  breaks  the  harmony  at 
once,  throwing  jars  and  discords  into  the  music.  Such 
a  breach  of  the  harmonic  law  would  be  called  a  mistake, 
but  when  it  is  a  breach  of  Christ's  moral  law  it  is 
more  than  a  mistake,  it  is  a  wrong. 

Before  passing  to  the  outer  life  Jesus  pauses,  in  this 
Gospel,  to  correct  certain  dissonances  of  mind  and  soul, 
of  thought  and  feeling,  which  put  us  in  a  wrong  attitude 
towards  our  fellows.  First  of  all,  He  forbids  us  to  sit 
in  judgment  upon  others.  He  says,  "Judge  not,  and 
ye  shall  not  be  judged  :  and  condemn  not,  and  ye  shall 
not  be  condemned  "  (vi.  37).  This  does  not  mean  that 
we  close  our  eyes  with  a  voluntary  blindness,  working 
our  way  through  life  Hke  moles  ;  nor  does  it  mean  that 
we  keep  our  opinions  in  a  state  of  flux,  not  allowing 
them  to  crystallize  into  thought,  or  to  harden  into  the 
leaden  alphabets  of  human  speech.  There  is  within  us 
all  a  moral  sense,  a  miniature  Sinai,  and  we  can  no 
more  suppress  its  thunders  or  sheath  its  lightnings  than 
we  can  hush  the  breakers  of  the  shore  into  silence,  or 
suppress  the  play  of  the  Northern  Lights.  But  in  that 
unconscious  judgment  we  pass  upon  the  actions  of 
others,  with  our  condemnation  of  the  wrong,  we  pass 
our  sentence  upon  the  wrong-doer,  mentally  ejecting 
him  from  the  courtesies  and  sympathies  of  life,  and 


^40  THE  (rOSPEl    OF  ST.  LUKE. 


if  we  allow  him  to  live  at  all,  compelling  him  to  live 
apart,  as  a  moral  incurable.  And  so,  with  our  hatred 
of  the  sin,  we  learn  to  hate  the  sinner,  and  calling 
from  him  both  our  charities  and  our  hopes,  we  hurl 
him  down  into  some  little  Gehenna  of  our  own.  But 
it  is  exactly  this  feeling,  this  kind  of  judgment,  the 
Law  of  Love  condemns.  We  may  "  hate  the  sin,  and 
yet  the  sinner  love,"  keeping  him  still  within  the  circle 
of  our  sympathies  and  our  hopes.  It  is  not  meet  that 
we  should  be  merciless  who  have  ourselves  experienced 
so  much  of  mercy ;  nor  is  it  for  us  to  hale  others  ofl 
to  prison,  or  ruthlessly  to  exact  the  uttermost  farthing, 
when  we  ourselves  at  the  very  best  are  erring  and 
unfaithful  servants,  standing  so  much  and  so  often  in 
need  of  forgiveness. 

But  there  is  another  "judging"  that  the  command  of 
Christ  condemns,  and  that  is  the  hasty  and  the  false 
judgments  we  pass  on  the  motives  and  lives  of  others. 
How  apt  we  are  to  depreciate  the  worth  of  others  who 
do  not  happen  to  belong  to  our  circle  I  We  look  so 
intently  for  their  faults  and  foibles  that  we  become  blind 
to  their  excellences.  We  forget  that  there  is  some 
good  in  every  person,  some  that  we  can  see  if  we  only 
look,  and  we  may  be  always  sure  that  there  is  some  we 
cannot  see.  We  should  not  prejudge.  We  should  not 
form  our  opinion  upon  an  ex  parte  statement.  We 
should  not  leave  the  heart  too  open  to  the  flying 
germs  of  rumour,  and  we  should  discount  heavily 
any  damaging,  disparaging  statement.  We  should  not 
allow  ourselves  to  draw  too  many  inferences,  for  he 
who  is  given  to  drawing  inferences  draws  largely  on  his 
imagination.  We  should  think  slowly  in  our  judgment 
of  others,  for  he  who  leaps  to  conclusions  generally 
takes  his  leap  in  the  dark.     We  should  learn  to  wait  for 


THE  ETHICS  OF  THE  GOSPEL,  341 

the  second  thoughts,  for  they  are  often  truer  than  the 
first.  Nor  is  it  wise  to  use  too  much  "  the  spur  of  the 
moment ; "  it  is  a  sharp  weapon,  and  is  apt  to  cut  both 
ways.  We  should  not  interpret  others'  motives  by 
our  own  feelings,  nor  should  we  *'  suppose  "  too  much. 
Above  all,  we  should  be  charitable,  judging  of  others 
as  we  judge  ourselves.  Perhaps  the  beam  that  is  in  a 
brother's  eye  is  but  the  magnified  mote  that  is  in  our 
own.  It  is  better  to  learn  the  art  of  appreciating  than 
that  of  depreciating ;  for  though  the  one  is  easy,  and  the 
other  difficult,  yet  he  who  looks  for  the  good,  and  exalts 
the  good,  will  make  the  very  wilderness  to  blossom  and 
be  glad ;  while  he  who  depreciates  everything  outside 
his  own  little  self  impoverishes  life,  and  makes  the  very 
garden  of  the  Lord  one  arid,  barren  desert 

Again,  Jesus  condemns  pride,  as  being  a  direct  con- 
travention of  His  Law  of  Love.  Love  rejoices  in  the 
possessions  and  gifts  of  others,  nor  would  she  care 
to  add  to  her  own  if  it  must  be  at  the  cost  of  theirs. 
Love  is  an  equalizer,  levelling  up  the  inequalities  the 
accidents  of  life  have  made,  and  preferring  to  stand  on 
some  lower  level  with  her  fellows  than  to  sit  solitary 
on  some  lofty  and  cold  Olympus.  Pride,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  a  repelling,  separating  force.  Scorning  those 
who  occupy  the  lower  places,  she  is  contented  only  on 
her  Olympian  summit,  where  she  keeps  herself  warm 
with  the  fires  of  her  self-adulation.  The  proud  heart 
is  the  loveless  heart,  one  huge  inflation ;  if  she  carries 
others  at  all,  it  is  only  as  a  steadying  ballast ;  she  will 
not  hesitate  to  throw  them  over  and  throw  them  down, 
as  mere  dust  or  sand,  if  their  fall  will  help  her  to  rise. 
Pride,  like  the  eagle,  builds  her  nest  on  high,  bringing 
forth  whole  broods  of  loveless,  preying  passions,  hatreds, 
jealousies,  and  hypocrisies.     Pride  sees  no  brotherhood 


341  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

in  man ;  humanity  to  her  means  no  more  than  so  many 
serfs  to  wait  upon  her  pleasure,  or  so  many  victims  for 
her  sacrifice  I  And  how  Jesus  loved  to  prick  these 
bubbles  of  airy  nothings,  showing  up  these  vanities  as 
the  very  essence  of  selfishness  1  He  did  not  spare  His 
words,  even  though  they  stung,  when  "  He  marked  how 
they  chose  out  the  chief  seats "  at  the  friendly  supper 
(xiv.  7) ;  and  one  of  His  bitter  "  woes "  He  hurled  at 
the  Pharisees  just  because  "  they  loved  the  chief  seats 
in  the  synagogues,"  worshipping  Self,  when  they  pre- 
tended to  worship  God,  so  making  the  house  of  God 
itself  an  arena  for  the  sport  and  play  of  their  proud 
ambitions.  "  He  that  is  least  among  you  all,"  He  said, 
when  rebuking  the  disciples'  lust  for  pre-eminence, 
"the  same  is  great."  And  such  is  Heaven's  law: 
humility  is  the  cardinal  virtue,  the  "strait"  and  low 
gate  which  opens  into  the  very  heart  of  the  kingdom. 
Humility  is  the  one  and  the  only  way  of  heavenly 
preferments  and  eternal  promotions ;  for  in  the  life  to 
come  there  will  be  strange  contrasts  and  inversions, 
as  he  that  exalted  himself  is  now  humbled,  and  he  that 
humbled  himself  is  now  exalted  (xiv.  1 1). 

Tracing  now  the  lines  of  duty  as  they  run  across  the 
outer  life,  we  find  them  following  the  same  directions. 
As  the  golden  milestone  of  the  Forum  marked  the  centre 
of  the  empire,  towards  which  its  roads  converged,  and 
from  which  all  distances  were  measured,  so  in  the 
Christian  commonwealth  Jesus  makes  Love  the  capital, 
the  central,  controlling  power ;  while  at  the  focal  point 
of  all  the  duties  He  sets  up  His  Golden  Rule,  which 
gives  direction  to  all  the  paths  of  human  conduct: 
"  And  as  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye 
also  to  them  likewise"  (vi  31).  In  this  general  law 
we  have  what  we  might  call  the  ethical  compass,  for  it 


THE  ETHICS  OF  THE  GOSPEL.  143 

embraces  within  its  circle  the  "  whole  duty  of  man " 
towards  his  fellow ;  and  it  only  needs  an  adjusted 
conscience,  like  the  delicately  poised  needle,  and  the 
line  of  the  "  ought "  can  be  read  off  at  once,  even  in 
those  uncertain  latitudes  where  no  specific  law  is  found. 
Are  we  in  doubt  as  to  what  course  of  conduct  to  pursue, 
as  to  the  kind  of  treatment  we  should  accord  to  our 
fellow?  we  can  always  find  the  via  recta  by  a  short 
mental  transposition.  We  have  only  to  put  ourselves 
in  his  place,  and  to  imagine  our  relative  positions 
reversed,  and  from  the  *' would"  of  our  supposed 
desires  and  hopes  we  read  the  "ought"  of  present 
duty.  The  Golden  Rule  is  thus  a  practical  exposition 
of  the  Second  Commandment,  investing  our  neighbour 
with  the  same  luminous  atmosphere  we  throw  about 
ourselves,  the  atmosphere  of  a  benevolent,  beneficent 
love. 

But  beyond  this  general  law  Jesus  gives  us  a  prescript 
as  to  the  treatment  of  enemies.  He  says,  "  Love  your 
enemies,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  bless  them  that 
curse  you,  pray  for  them  that  despitefully  use  you.  To 
him  that  smiteth  thee  on  the  one  cheek  offer  also  the 
other :  and  from  him  that  taketh  away  thy  cloak  withhold 
not  thy  coat  also  "  (vi.  27-29).  In  considering  these  in- 
junctions we  must  bear  in  mind  that  the  word  "enemy"  in 
its  New  Testament  meaning  had  not  the  wide  and  general 
signification  it  has  to-day.  It  then  stood  in  antithesis 
to  the  word  "  neighbour,"  as  in  Matt.  v.  43  ;  and  as  the 
word  "  neighbour  "  to  the  Jew  included  those,  and  those 
only,  who  were  of  the  Hebrew  race  and  faith,  the  woid 
"  enemy "  referred  to  those  outside,  who  were  aliens 
from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel.  To  the  Hebrew 
mind  it  stood  as  a  synonym  for  "  Gentile."  In  these 
words,  then,  we  find,  not  a  general  and  universal  law, 


344  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

but  the  special  instructions  as  to  their  course  of  con- 
duct in  dealing  with  the  Gentiles,  to  whom  they  would 
shortly  be  sent.  No  matter  what  their  treatment,  they 
must  bear  it  with  an  uncomplaining  patience.  Stripped, 
beaten,  they  must  not  resist,  much  less  retaliate ;  they 
must  not  allow  any  vindictive  feelings  to  possess  them, 
nor  must  they  take  in  their  own  hot  hand  the  sword  of 
a  *'  sweet  revenge."  Nay,  they  must  even  bear  a  good- 
will towards  their  enemies,  repaying  their  hate  with 
love,  their  spite  and  enmity  with  prayers,  and  their 
curses  with  sincerest  benedictions. 

It  will  be  observed  that  no  mention  is  made  of  re- 
pentance or  of  restitution  :  without  waiting  for  these, 
or  even  expecting  them,  they  must  be  prepared  to  for- 
give and  prepared  to  love  their  enemies,  even  while 
they  are  shamefully  treating  them.  And  what  else, 
under  the  circumstances,  could  they  have  done  ?  If 
they  appealed  to  the  secular  power  it  would  simply 
have  been  an  appeal  to  a  heathen  court,  from  enemies 
to  enemies.  And  as  to  waiting  for  repentance,  their 
"  enemies  "  are  only  treating  them  as  enemies,  aliens 
and  foreigners,  wronging  them,  it  is  true,  but  ignorantly, 
and  not  through  any  personal  malice.  They  must  for- 
give just  for  the  same  reason  that  Jesus  forgave  His 
Roman  murderers,   *'  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

We  cannot,  therefore,  take  these  injunctions,  which 
evidently  had  a  special  and  temporary  application,  as 
the  literal  rule  of  conduct  towards  those  who  are  un- 
friendly or  hostile  to  us.  This,  however,  is  plain,  that 
even  our  enemies,  whose  enmity  is  directly  personal 
rather  than  sectional  or  racial,  are  not  to  be  excluded 
from  the  Law  of  Love.  We  must  bear  them  neither 
hatred  nor  resentment ;  we  must  guard  our  hearts 
sacredly  from  all  malevolent,  vindictive  feelings.     Wc 


THE  ETHICS    OF  THE  GOSPEL.  345 


must  not  be  our  own  avenger,  taking  vengeance  upon 
our  adversaries,  as  we  let  loose  the  barking  Cerberu3 
to  track  and  run  them  down.  All  such  feelings  are 
contrary  to  the  Law  of  Love,  and  so  are  contraband, 
entirely  foreign  to  the  heart  that  calls  itself  Christian. 
But  with  all  this  we  are  not  to  meet  all  sorts  of  injuries 
and  wrongs  without  protest  or  resistance.  We  cannot 
condone  a  wrong  without  being  accomplices  in  the 
wrong.  To  defend  our  property  and  life  is  just  as 
much  our  duty  as  it  was  the  wisdom  and  the  duty  of 
those  to  whom  Jesus  spoke  to  offer  an  uncomplaining 
cheek  to  the  Gentile  smiter.  Not  to  do  this  is  to  en- 
courage crime,  and  to  put  a  premium  upon  evil.  Nor 
is  it  inconsistent  with  a  true  love  to  seek  to  punish, 
by  lawful  means,  the  wrong-doer.  Justice  here  is  the 
highest  type  of  mercy,  and  pains  and  penalties  have 
a  remedial  virtue,  taming  the  passions  which  had  grown 
too  wild,  or  straightening  the  conscience  that  had 
become  warped. 

And  so  Jesus,  speaking  of  the  "  offences,"  the  occa- 
sions of  stumbling  that  would  come,  said,  "If  thy 
brother  sin,  rebuke  him  ;  and  if  he  repent,  forgive  him  " 
(xvii.  3).  It  is  not  the  patient,  silent  acquiescence  now. 
No,  we  must  rebuke  the  brother  who  has  sinned  against 
us  and  wronged  us.  And  if  this  is  vain,  we  must  teU 
it  to  the  Church,  as  St.  Matthew  completes  the  injunc- 
tion (xviii.  17);  and  if  the  offender  will  not  hear  tht 
Church,  he  must  be  cast  out,  ejected  from  their  fellow- 
ship, and  becoming  to  their  thought  as  a  heathen  or  i 
publican.  The  wrong,  though  it  is  a  brother  who  does 
it,  must  not  be  glossed  over  with  the  enamel  of  a 
euphemism  ;  nor  must  it  be  hushed  up,  veiled  by  a 
guilty  silence.  It  must  be  brought  to  the  light  of  day , 
it  must    be  rebuked   and   punished  ;   nor  must   it  be 


346  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

forgiven  until  it  is  repented  of.  Let  there  be,  however, 
a  genuine  repentance,  and  there  must  be  on  our  part 
the  prompt  and  complete  forgiveness  of  the  wrong. 
We  must  set  it  back  out  of  our  sight,  amongst  the  for- 
gotten things.  And  if  the  wrong  be  repeated,  if  the 
repentance  be  repeated,  the  forgiveness  must  be  re- 
peated too,  not  only  for  seven  times  seven  offences, 
but  for  seventy  times  seven.  Nor  is  it  left  to  our  option 
whether  we  forgive  or  no ;  it  is  a  duty,  absolute  and 
imperative ;  we  must  forgive,  as  we  ourselves  hope  to 
be  forgiven. 

Again,  Jesus  treats  of  the  true  use  of  wealth.  He 
Himself  assumed  a  voluntary  poverty.  Silver  and 
gold  had  He  none ;  indeed,  the  only  coin  that  we  read 
He  handled  was  the  borrowed  Roman  penny,  with 
Caesar's  inscription  upon  it  But  while  Jesus  Himself 
preferred  poverty,  choosing  to  live  on  the  outflowing 
charities  of  those  who  felt  it  both  a  privilege  and  an 
honour  to  minister  to  Him  of  their  substance,  yet  He 
did  not  condemn  wealth.  It  was  not  a  wrong  per  se. 
In  the  Old  Testament  it  had  been  regarded  as  a  sign 
of  Heaven's  special  favour,  and  amongst  the  rich  Jesus 
Himself  found  some  of  His  warmest,  truest  friends — 
friends  who  came  nobly  to  the  front  when  some  who 
had  made  louder  professions  had  ignorainiously  fled. 
Nor  did  Jesus  require  the  renunciation  of  wealth  as  the 
condition  of  discipleship.  He  did  not  advocate  that 
fictitious  igalite  of  the  Commune.  He  sought  rather  to 
level  up  than  to  level  down.  It  is  true  He  did  say  to 
the  ruler,  "  Sell  all  that  thou  hast,  and  distribute  unto 
the  poor;"  but  this  was  an  exceptional  case,*  and 
probably  it  was  put  before  him  as  a  test  command,  like 

*  This  demand  was  made  from  the  Apostles  (xii.  33),  but  net  from 
others  beyond  the  Apostolic  circle. 


THE  ETHICS  OF  THE  GOSPEL.  347 

the  command  to  Abraham  that  he  should  sacrifice  his 
son — which  was  not  intended  to  be  carried  out  literally, 
but  only  as  far  as  the  intention,  the  will  There  was 
no  such  demand  made  from  Nicodemus,  and  when 
Zacchaeus  testified  that  it  had  been  his  practice  (the 
present  tense  would  indicate  a  retrospective  rather  than 
a  prospective  rule)  to  give  one-half  of  his  income  to  the 
poor,  Jesus  does  not  find  fault  with  his  division,  and 
demand  the  other  half;  He  commends  him,  and  passes 
him  up,  right  over  the  excommunication  of  the  rabbis, 
among  the  true  sons  of  Abraham.  Jesus  did  not  pose 
as  an  assessor  ;  He  left  men  to  divide  their  own  inherit- 
ance. It  was  enough  for  Him  if  He  could  put  within 
the  soul  this  new  force,  the  "  moral  dynamic  "  of  love 
to  God  and  man ;  then  the  outward  relations  would 
shape  themselves,  regulated  as  by  some  automatic 
action. 

But  with  all  this,  Jesus  recognized  the  peculiar  temp- 
tations and  dangers  of  wealth.  He  saw  how  riches 
tend  to  engross  and  monopolize  the  thought,  diverting 
it  from  higher  things,  and  so  He  classed  riches  with 
cares,  pleasures,  which  choke  the  Word  of  life,  and  make 
it  unfruitful.  He  saw  how  wealth  tended  to  selfish- 
ness; that  it  acted  as  an  astringent,  closing  up  the 
valves  of  the  heart,  and  thus  shutting  down  the  outflow 
of  its  sympathies.  And  so  Jesus,  whenever  He  spoke 
of  wealth,  spoke  in  words  of  warning :  "  How  hardly 
shall  they  that  have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
God  I "  He  said,  when  He  saw  how  the  rich  ruler  set 
wealth  before  faith  and  hope.  And  singularly  enough, 
the  only  times^  Jesus,  in  His  parables,  lifts  up  the  curtain 
of  doom  it  is  to  tell  of  "  certain  rich  "  men — the  one, 
whose  soul  swung  selfishly  between  his  banquets  and 
his  bams,  and  who,  alas  I  had  laid  up  no  treasures  in 


348  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.   LUKE, 

heaven ;  and  the  other,  who  exchanged  his  purple  and 
fine  linen  for  the  folds  of  enveloping  flames,  and  the 
sumptuous  fare  of  earth  for  eternal  want,  the  eternal 
hunger  and  thirst  of  the  after-retribution  I 

What,  then,  is  the  true  use  of  wealth  ?  and  how 
may  we  so  hold  it  that  it  shall  prove  a  blessing,  and 
not  a  bane  ?  In  the  first  place,  we  must  hold  it  in  our 
hand,  and  not  lay  it  up  in  the  heart.  We  must  possess 
it ;  it  must  not  possess  us.  We  may  give  our  thought, 
moderately,  to  it,  but  our  affections  must  not  be  allowed 
to  centre  upon  it.  We  read  that  the  Pharisees  "were 
lovers  of  money"  (xvi.  14),  and  that  argentic  passion 
was  the  root  of  all  their  evils.  The  love  of  money,  like 
an  opiate,  little  by  little,  steals  over  the  whole  frame, 
deadening  the  sensibility,  perverting  the  judgment,  and 
weakening  the  will,  producing  a  kind  of  intoxication, 
in  which  the  better  reason  is  lost,  and  the  confused 
speech  can  only  articulate,  with  Shylock,  "  My  ducats, 
my  ducats  ! "  The  true  way  of  holding  wealth  is  to 
hold  it  in  trust,  recognizing  God's  ownership  and  our 
stewardship.  Bank  it  up,  give  it  no  outlet,  and  your 
wealth  becomes  a  stagnant  pool,  breeding  malaria  and 
burning  fevers ;  but  open  the  channel,  give  it  an  outlet, 
and  it  will  bring  life  and  music  to  a  thousand  lowei 
vales,  increasing  the  happiness  of  others,  and  increas- 
ing your  own  the  more.  And  so  Jesus  strikes  in  with 
His  frequent  imperative,  "  Give  " — "  Give,  and  it  shall  be 
given  unto  you  ;  good  measure,  pressed  down,  shaken 
together,  running  over,  shall  they  give  into  your 
bosom  "  (vi.  38).  And  this  is  the  true  use  of  wealth, 
its  consecration  to  the  needs  of  humanity.  And  may 
we  not  say  that  here  is  its  truest  pleasure  ?  He  who 
has  learned  the  art  of  generous  giving,  who  makes  his 
life  one  large-hearted  benevolence,  living  for  others  and 


THE   ETHICS   OF  THE  GOSPEL.  349 

not  for  himself,  has  acquired  an  art  that  is  beautiful 
and  Divine,  an  art  that  turns  the  deserts  into  gardens 
of  the  Lord,  and  that  peoples  the  sky  overhead  with 
unseen  singing  Ariels.  Giving  and  living  are  heavenly 
synonyms,  and  he  who  giveth  most  liveth  best. 

But  not  from  the  words  of  Jesus  alone  do  we  read 
off  the  lines  of  our  duty.  He  is  in  His  own  Person 
a  Polar  Star,  to  whom  all  the  meridians  of  our  round 
life  turn,  and  from  whom  they  emanate.  His  life  is 
thus  our  law,  His  example  our  pattern.  Do  we  wish 
to  learn  what  are  the  duties  of  children  to  their  parents  ? 
the  thirty  silent  years  of  Nazareth  speak  in  answer. 
They  show  us  how  the  Boy  Jesus  is  in  subjection  to 
His  parents,  giving  to  them  a  perfect  obedience,  a 
perfect  trust,  and  a  perfect  love.  They  show  us  the 
Divine  Youth,  still  shut  in  within  that  narrow  circle, 
ministering  to  that  circle,  by  hard  manual  toil  becoming 
the  stay  of  that  fatherless  home.  Do  we  wish  to  learn 
our  duties  to  the  State  ?  See  how  Jesus  walked  in 
a  land  across  which  the  Roman  eagle  had  cast  its 
shadow  1  He  did  not  preach  a  crusade  against  the 
barbarian  invaders.  He  recognized  in  their  presence 
and  power  the  ordination  of  God — that  they  had  been 
sent  to  chastise  a  lapsed  Israel.  And  so  Jesus  spoke 
no  word  of  denunciation,  no  fiery  word,  which  might 
have  proved  the  spark  of  a  revolution.  He  took 
Himself  away  from  the  multitudes  when  they  would 
by  force  make  Him  King.  He  spoke  in  respectful  terms 
of  the  powers  that  were  ;  He  even  justified  the  payment 
of  tribute  to  Caesar,  acknowledging  his  lordship,  while 
at  the  same  time  He  spoke  of  the  higher  tribute  to 
the  great  Over-Lord,  even  God.  When  upon  His  trial 
for  life  or  death,  before  a  Roman  tribunal,  He  even 
stayed  to  apologize  for  Pilate's  weakness,  casting  the 


350  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

heavier  sin  back  on  the  hierarchy  that  had  bought 
Him  and  delivered  Him  up;  while  upon  the  cross, 
amid  its  untold  agonies,  though  His  lips  were  glued 
by  a  fearful  thirst,  He  opened  them  to  breathe  a  last 
prayer  for  His  Roman  executioners  :  "  Father,  forgive 
them ;  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

But  was  Jesus,  then,  an  alien  from  His  kinsmen 
according  to  the  flesh?  Was  patriotism  to  Him  an 
unknown  force  ?  Did  He  know  nothing  of  love  of 
country,  that  inspiration  which  has  turned  common 
men  into  heroes  and  martyrs,  that  love  which  oceans 
cannot  quench,  nor  distance  weaken,  which  throws 
an  auroral  brightness  around  the  most  sterile  shores, 
and  which  makes  the  emigrant  sick  with  a  strange 
Heimweh  ?  Did  the  Son  of  man,  the  ideal  Man,  know 
nothing  at  all  of  this  ?  He  did  know  it,  and  know  it 
well.  He  identified  Himself  thoroughly  with  His 
people ;  He  placed  Himself  under  the  law,  observing 
its  rites  and  ceremonies.  After  the  Childhood-exile  in 
Egypt,  He  scarcely  passed  out  of  the  sacred  bounds ; 
no  storms  of  rough  persecution  could  dislodge  the 
heavenly  Dove,  or  send  Him  wheeling  off  from  His 
native  hills.  And  if  He  did  not  preach  rebellion.  He 
did  preach  that  righteousness  which  gives  to  a  nation 
its  truest  wealth  and  widest  liberty.  He  did  denounce 
the  Pharisaic  shams,  the  hollow  hypocrisies,  which  had 
eaten  away  the  nation's  heart  and  strength.  And  how 
He  loved  Jerusalem,  forgetting  His  own  triumph  in 
the  vision  of  her  humiliation,  and  weeping  for  the 
desolations  which  were  coming  sure  and  fast  I  This, 
the  Holy  City,  was  the  centre  to  which  He  ever 
returned,  and  to  which  He  gave  His  last  bequest — His 
cross  and  His  grave.  Nay,  when  the  cross  is  taken 
down,  and  the  grave  is  vacant,  He  lingers  to  give  His 


THE  ETHICS  OF  THE   GOSPEL. 


Apostles  their  commission ;  and  when  He  bids  them, 
"  Go  ye  out  into  all  the  world,"  He  adds,  **  beginning 
at  Jerusalem."  The  Son  of  man  is  the  Son  of  David 
still,  and  within  His  deep  love  for  humanity  at  large 
was  a  peculiar  love  for  His  "own,"  as  the  ark  itself 
was  enshrined  within  the  Holy  of  holies. 

And  so  we  might  traverse  the  whole  ethical  domain, 
and  we  should  find  no  duty  which  is  not  enforced  or 
suggested  by  the  words  or  the  life  of  the  great  Teacher. 
As  Dr.  Dorner  says,  "There  is  only  one  morality; 
the  original  of  it  is  in  God ;  the  copy  of  it  is  in  the 
Man  of  God."  Happy  is  He  who  sees  this  Polar  Star, 
whose  light  shines  clear  and  calm  above  the  rush  of 
human  years  and  the  ebbs  and  flows  of  human  life  I 
Happier  still  is  he  who  shapes  his  course  by  it,  who 
reads  off  all  his  bearings  from  its  light !  He  who 
builds  his  life  after  the  Divine  model,  reading  the 
Christ-Hfe  into  his  own,  will  build  up  another  city  of 
God  on  earth,  four-square  and  compact  together,  a 
city  of  peace,  because  a  city  of  righteousness  and  a 
city  of  love. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 
THE  ESCHATOLOGY  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

COIFI,  in  his  parable  to  the  thanes  and  nobles  of 
the  North  Humber  country,  likened  the  present 
life  of  man  to  the  flight  of  a  sparrow  through  one  of 
their  lighted  halls,  coming  out  of  the  night,  and  then 
disappearing  in  the  dark  winter  whence  it  came ;  and 
he  asked  for  Christianity  a  candid  hearing,  if  perhaps 
she  might  tell  the  secrets  of  the  beyond.  And  so 
indeed  she  does,  lighting  up  the  "dark  winter"  with 
a  bright,  though  a  partial  apocalypse.  It  is  not  our 
purpose  to  enter  into  a  general  discussion  of  the 
subject;  our  task  is  simply  to  arrest  the  beams  of 
inspired  light  hiding  within  this  Gospel,  and  by  a  sort 
of  spectrum  analysis  to  read  from  them  what  they  are 
permitted  to  reveal     And — 

I.  The  Gospel  teaches  that  the  grave  is  not  the  end 
of  life.  It  may  seem  as  if  we  were  stating  but  a 
truism  in  saying  this ;  yet  if  a  truism,  it  perhaps  has 
not  been  allowed  its  due  place  in  our  thought,  and  its 
restatement  may  not  be  altogether  a  superfluous  word. 
We  cannot  study  the  life  of  Jesus  without  noticing  that 
His  views  of  earth  were  not  the  views  of  men  in 
general.  To  them  this  world  was  everything;  to 
possess  it,  even  in  some  infinitesimal  quantity,  was  their 
supreme  ambition  ;  and  though  in  their  better,  clearer 


THE  ESCHATOLOGY  OF  THE  GOSPEL,  353 

moments  they  caught  glimpses  of  worlds  other  than 
their  own,  yet  to  their  distant  vision  they  were  as  the 
twinkling  stars  of  the  azure,  far  off  and  cold,  soon 
losing  themselves  in  the  haze  of  unreality,  or  setting  in 
the  shadows  of  the  imposing  earth.  To  Jesus  earth 
was  but  a  fragment  of  a  vaster  whole,  a  fragment 
whose  substances  were  but  the  shadows  of  higher, 
heavenlier  realities.  Nor  were  these  outlying  spaces 
to  His  mind  voids  of  silence,  a  "  dark  inane,"  without 
life  or  thought;  they  were  peopled  with  intelligences 
whose  personalities  were  as  distinctly  marked  as  is  this 
human  Ego,  and  whose  movements,  unweighted  by  the 
gyves  of  flesh,  seemed  subtle  and  swift  as  thought 
itself.  With  one  of  these  worlds  Jesus  was  perfectly 
familiar.  With  heaven,  which  was  the  abode  of  His 
Father  and  innumerable  hosts  of  angels.  He  was  in 
close  and  constant  correspondence,  and  the  frequent 
prayer,  the  frequent  upward  looks  tell  us  how  near  and 
how  intensely  real  the  heavenly  places  were  to  Him. 
But  in  the  mind  of  Jesus  this  empyrean  of  happiness 
and  light  had  its  antipodes  of  woe  and  darkness,  a 
penal  realm  of  fearful  shadow,  and  which,  borrowing  the 
language  of  the  city.  He  called  the  Gehenna  of  burning. 
Such  were  the  two  invisible  realms,  lying  away  from 
earth,  yet  closely  touching  it  from  opposite  directions, 
and  to  one  or  other  of  which  all  the  paths  of  human 
life  turned,  to  find  their  goal  and  their  self-chosen 
destiny. 

And  not  only  so,  but  the  transition  from  the  Seen 
to  the  Unseen  was  not  to  Jesus  the  abrupt  and  total 
change  that  it  seems  to  man.  To  us  the  dividing-line 
is  both  dark  and  broad.  It  seems  to  us  a  transmigration 
to  some  new  and  strange  world,  where  we  must  begin 
life  d€  novo.     To  Jesus  the  line  was  narrow,  like  one  of 

23 


354  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

the  imaginary  meridians  of  earth,  the  "here"  shading  of! 
into  the  "  hereafter/'  while  both  were  but  the  hemispheres 
of  one  round  Ufe.  And  so  Jesus  did  not  often  speak  of 
"  death ; "  that  was  too  human  a  word.  He  preferred 
the  softer  names  of  "  sleep "  or  "  exodus,"  thus  mak- 
ing death  the  quickener  of  life,  or  likening  it  to  a 
triumphal  march  from  bondage  to  liberty.  Nor  was  "  the 
Valley  of  the  Shadow  "  to  Jesus  a  strange,  unfamiliar 
place.  He  knew  all  its  secrets,  all  its  windings.  It 
was  His  own  territory,  where  His  will  was  supreme. 
Again  and  again  He  throws  a  commanding  voice  across 
the  valley,  a  voice  which  goes  reverberating  among 
the  heights  beyond,  and  instantly  the  departed  spirit 
retraces  its  steps,  to  animate  again  the  cold  clay  it  had 
forsaken.  "  He  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead,  but  of  the 
living,"  said  Jesus,  as  He  claimed  for  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob  an  existence  altogether  apart  from  the 
crumbling  dust  of  Hebron ;  and  as  we  see  Moses  and 
Elias  coming  to  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration,  we  see 
that  the  departed  have  not  so  far  departed  as  to  take 
no  interest  in  earthly  things,  and  as  not  to  hear  the 
strike  of  earthly  hours.  And  how  clearly  this  is  seen 
in  the  resurrection  life  of  Jesus,  with  which  this 
Gospel  closes  I  Death  and  the  Grave  have  done  their 
worst  to  Him,  but  how  little  is  that  worst  I  how 
insignificant  the  blank  it  makes  in  the  Divine  Life  1 
The  few  hours  in  the  grave  were  but  a  semi  breve 
rest  in  the  music  of  that  Life;  the  Easter  morning 
struck  a  fresh  bar,  and  the  music  went  on,  in  the  higher 
spaces,  it  is  true,  but  in  the  same  key  and  in  the  same 
sweet  strain.  And  just  so  is  it  with  all  human  life; 
*'  the  grave  is  not  our  goal."  Conditions  and  circum- 
stances will  of  necessity  change,  as  the  mortal  puts  on 
immortality,  but  the  life  itself  will  be  one  and  the  same 


THE  ESCHATOLOGY  OF  THE   GOSPEL,  355 

life,  here  amid  things  visible  and  temporal,  and  there 
amid  the  invisible  and  eternal. 

2.  The  Gospel  shows  in  what  respects  the  conditions 
of  the  after-life  will  be  changed.  In  chapter  xx.  27  we 
read  how  that  the  Sadducees  came  to  Jesus,  tempting 
Him.  They  were  the  cold  materialists  of  the  age, 
denying  the  existence  of  spirits,  and  so  denying  the 
resurrection.  They  put  before  Him  an  extreme,  though 
not  impossible  case,  of  a  woman  who  had  been  the  wife, 
successively,  of  seven  brethren ;  and  they  ask,  with  the 
ripple  of  an  inward  laugh  in  their  question,  "  In  the 
resurrection  therefore  whose  wife  of  them  shall  she 
be  ?"  Jesus  answered,  "  The  sons  of  this  world  marry, 
and  are  given  in  marriage :  but  they  that  are  accounted 
worthy  to  attain  to  that  world,  and  the  resurrection 
from  the  dead,  neither  marry,  nor  are  given  in  marriage : 
for  neither  can  they  die  any  more :  for  they  are  equal 
unto  the  angels ;  and  are  sons  of  God,  being  sons  of  the 
resurrection."  It  will  be  observed  how  Jesus  plays 
with  the  word  around  which  the  Sadducean  mind 
revolves.  To  them  marriage  was  a  key-word  which 
locked  up  the  gates  of  an  after-Hfe,  and  threw  back  the 
resurrection  among  the  impossibilities  and  absurdities. 
But  Jesus  takes  up  their  key-word,  and  turning  it 
round  and  round  in  His  speech.  He  makes  it  unlock 
and  open  the  inner  soul  of  these  men,  showing  how, 
in  spite  of  their  intellectuality,  the  drift  of  their  thoughts 
was  but  low  and  sensual  At  the  same  time  Jesus 
shows  that  their  test-word  is  altogether  mundane.  It 
is  made  for  earth  alone ;  for  having  a  nature  of  flesh 
and  blood,  it  cannot  enter  into  the  higher  kingdom  of 
glory.  Marriage  has  its  place  in  the  life  whose  termini 
are  birth  and  death.  It  exists  mainly  for  the  perpetua- 
tion and  increase  of  the  human  race.     It  has  thus  to 


356  THE   GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE, 


do  with  the  lower  nature  of  man,  the  physical,  the 
earthly;  but  in  the  world  to  come  birth,  marriage, 
death  will  be  outdated,  obsolete  terms.  Man  then  will 
be  "equal  unto  the  angels,"  the  coarser  nature  which 
fitted  him  for  earth  being  shaken  off  and  left  behind, 
amongst  other  mortalities. 

And  exactly  the  same  truth  is  taught  by  the  three 
posthumous  appearances  recorded  in  this  Gospel.  When 
they  appeared  upon  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration, 
Moses  and  Elias  had  been  residents  of  the  other 
world,  the  one  for  nine,  the  other  for  fourteen  centuries. 
But  while  possessing  the  form,  and  perhaps  the  features 
of  the  old  body  of  earth,  the  glorious  body  they  wear 
now  is  under  conditions  and  laws  altogether  different. 
How  easy  and  aerial  are  its  movements !  Though  it 
possesses  no  wings,  it  has  the  lightness  and  buoyancy 
of  a  bird,  moving  through  space  swiftly  and  silently  as 
the  light  pulses  through  the  ether.  Or  take  the  body 
of  Christ's  resurrection  life.  It  has  not  yet  become  the 
glorified  body  of  the  heavenly  life ;  it  is  in  its  transition 
state,  between  the  two ;  yet  how  changed  it  is  !  Lifted 
above  the  needs  and  laws  of  our  earth-bound  nature, 
the  risen  Christ  no  longer  fives  among  His  own ;  He 
dwells  apart,  where  we  cannot  tell.  When  He  does 
appear  He  comes  in  upon  them  suddenly,  giving  no 
warning  of  His  approach ;  and  then,  after  the  bright 
though  brief  apocalypse,  He  vanishes  as  mysteriously 
as  He  came,  passing  at  the  last  on  the  clouds  to  heaven. 
There  is  thus  some  correspondence  between  the  body 
of  the  old  and  that  of  the  new  fife,  though  how  far  the 
resemblance  extends  we  cannot  tell;  we  can  only  fall 
back  upon  the  Apostle's  words,  which  to  our  human 
ear  sound  like  a  paradox,  but  which  give  us  our  only 
solution  of  the  enigma,  "  It  is  raised  a  spiritual  body " 


THE  ESCHATOLOGY  OF  THE  GOSPEL.  357 

(i  Cor.  XV.  44).  It  is  no  longer  the  "natural  body," 
but  a  supernatural  one,  with  a  spiritual  instead  of  a 
material  form,  and  under  spiritual  laws. 

But  taking  the  Apostle's  words  as  our  base-line,  and 
measuring  from  them,  we  may  throw  our  lines  of  sight 
across  the  hereafter,  reading  at  least  as  much  as  this, 
that  whatever  may  be  the  pleasures  or  the  pains  of  the 
after-life,  they  will  be  of  a  spiritual,  and  not  of  a  physical 
kind.  It  is  just  here  that  our  vision  sometimes  gets 
blurred  and  indistinct,  as  all  the  descriptions  of  that 
after-life,  even  in  Scripture,  are  given  in  earthly  figures. 
And  so  we  have  built  up  before  us  a  material  heaven, 
with  jasper  walls,  and  gates  of  pearl,  and  gardens  of 
perennial  fruits,  with  crowns  and  other  palace  delights. 
But  it  is  evident  that  these  are  but  the  earthly  shadows 
of  the  heavenly  realities,  the  darkened  glasses  of  oui 
earthly  speech,  which  help  our  dull  vision  to  gaze  upon 
glories  which  the  eye  of  our  mortality  hath  not  seen, 
and  which  its  heart  cannot  conceive,  except  dimly,  as  a 
few ''broken  lights"  pass  through  the  dark  lenses  of 
these  earthly  figures.  What  new  senses  may  be  created 
we  do  not  know,  but  if  the  body  of  the  after-life  is  "  a 
spiritual  body,"  then  its  whole  environment  must  be 
changed.  Material  substances  can  no  longer  affect  it, 
either  to  cause  pleasure  or  pain ;  and  though  we  may 
not  yet  tell  in  what  the  delights  of  the  one  state,  or 
the  pains  of  the  other  will  consist,  we  do  know  that 
they  must  be  something  other  than  literal  palms  and 
crowns,  and  other  than  material  fires.  These  figures 
are  but  the  stammerings  of  our  earthly  speech,  as  it 
tries  to  tell  the  unutterable. 

3.  Our  Gospel  teaches  that  character  determines  des- 
tiny. "A  man's  life,"  said  Jesus,  wheii  rebuking  covet- 
ousness  (xii.  15),  "consistetn  not  in  the  abundance  of 


J58  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE, 

the  things  which  he  possesseth/*  These  are  not  life's 
noblest  aim,  nor  its  truest  wealth.  They  are  but  the 
accidents  of  life,  the  particles  of  floating  dust,  caught 
up  by  the  stream ;  they  will  be  left  behind  soon  as 
the  sediment,  if  not  before,  when  they  reach  the  barrier 
of  the  grave.  A  man's  possessions  do  not  constitute 
the  true  life ,  they  do  not  make  the  real  self,  the 
man.  Here  it  is  not  what  a  man  has,  but  what  a 
man  is.  And  a  man  is  just  what  his  heart  makes  him. 
The  outer  life  is  but  the  blossoming  of  the  inner  soul, 
and  what  we  call  character,  in  its  objective  meaning, 
is  but  the  subtle  and  silent  influence,  the  odour,  as  we 
might  call  it,  fragrant  or  otherwise,  which  the  soul 
unconsciously  throws  out  And  even  in  this  world 
character  is  more  than  circumstance,  for  it  gives  aim 
and  direction  to  the  whole  life.  Men  do  not  always 
reach  their  goal  in  earthly  things,  but  in  the  moral 
world  each  man  goes  to  his  "own  place,"  the  place 
he  himself  has  chosen  and  sought ;  he  is  the  arbiter  of 
his  own  destiny. 

And  what  we  find  to  be  a  law  of  earth  is  the  law  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  as  Jesus  was  constantly  affirm- 
ing. The  future  life  would  simply  be  the  present  life, 
with  eternity  as  its  coefficient.  Destiny  itself  would  be 
but  the  harvest  of  earthly  deeds,  the  hereafter  being 
only  the  after-here.  Jesus  shows  us  how  while  on 
earth  we  may  lay  up  "  treasures  in  the  heavens," 
making  for  ourselves  "  purses  which  wax  not  old,"  and 
thus  becoming  "  rich  toward  God."  He  draws  a  vivid 
picture  of  "  a  certain  rich  man,"  whose  one  estimate  of 
life  was  "  the  abundance  of  the  things  which  he  pos- 
sessed," the  size  and  affluence  of  his  barns,  and  whose 
soul  was  required  of  him  just  when  he  was  congratulat- 
ing it  on  the  years  oJ   guaranteed  plenty,  bidding  It, 


THE  ESCHATOLOGY  OF  THE  GOSPEL,  359 

"  Take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  (xii.  16-12)." 
He  does  not  here  trace  for  us  the  destiny  of  such  a  soul 
— He  does  this  in  another  parable — but  He  pictures  it 
as  suddenly  torn  away,  and  eternally  separated,  from 
all  it  had  possessed  before,  leaving  it,  perhaps,  to  be 
squandered  thriftlessly,  or  consumed  by  the  fires  of 
lust ;  while,  starved  and  shrivelled,  the  pauper  soul  is 
driven  out  from  its  earthly  stewardship,  to  find,  alas  ! 
no  welcome  in  the  '*  eternal  tabernacles/*  In  the 
appraisement  of  this  world  such  a  man  would  be 
deemed  wise  and  happy,  but  to  Heaven  he  is  the 
"  foolish  one,"  committing  the  great,  the  eternal  folly. 

The  same  lesson  is  taught  in  the  parables  of  the 
Housebuilders  (vi.  47)  and  of  the  Talents  (xix.  12).  In 
each  there  comes  the  inevitable  test,  the  down-rush  of 
the  flood  and  the  reckoning  of  the  lord,  a  test  which 
leaves  the  obedient  secure  and  happy,  the  faithful  pro- 
moted to  honour  and  rewards,  passed  up  among  the 
kings ;  but  the  disobedient,  if  not  entombed  in  the  ruins 
of  their  false  hopes,  yet  all  shelterless  from  the  pitiless 
storm,  and  the  unfaithful  and  slothful  servant  stripped 
of  even  the  little  he  had,  passed  downwards  into  dis- 
honour and  shame. 

In  another  parable,  that  of  the  Rich  Man  and  Lazarus 
(xvi.  19-31),  we  have  a  light  thrown  upon  our  subject 
which  is  at  once  vivid  and  lurid.  In  a  few  graphic  words 
He  draws  for  us  the  picture  of  strange  contrasts.  The 
one  is  rich,  dwelling  in  a  palatial  residence,  whose  impos- 
ing gateway  looked  down  upon  the  vulgar  crowd  ;  clothed 
in  garments  of  Tyrian  purple  and  of  Egyptian  byssus, 
which  only  great  wealth  could  purchase,  and  faring 
sumptuously  every  day.  So,  with  perpetual  banquets, 
the  rich  man  lived  his  selfish,  sensual  life.  With 
thought  all  centred  up)on  himself,  and  that  his  lowest 


3fo  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

self,  he  has  no  thoughts  or  sympathies  to  spare  for 
the  outlying  world.  They  do  not  even  travel  so  far  as 
to  the  poor  beggar  who  is  cast  daily  at  his  gate,  in 
hopes  that  some  of  the  shaken-out  crumbs  of  the  banquet 
may  fall  within  his  reach.  Such  is  the  contrast — the 
extreme  of  wealth,  and  the  extreme  of  poverty  ;  the  one 
with  troops  of  friends,  the  other  friendless- — for  the 
verb  shows  that  the  hands  which  laid  him  down  by  the 
rich  man's  gate  were  not  the  gentle  hands  of  affection, 
but  the  rough  hands  of  duty  or  of  a  cold  charity ;  the 
one  clothed  in  splendid  attire,  the  other  not  possessing 
enough  even  to  cover  his  sores;  the  one  gorged  to 
repletion,  the  other  shrunken  and  starved  ;  the  one  the 
anonymous  Epicurean,  the  other  possessing  a  name 
indeed,  but  nought  beside,  but  a  name  that  had  a 
Divinity  hidden  within  it,*  and  which  was  an  index  to 
the  soul  that  bore  it.  Such  were  the  two  characters 
Jesus  portrayed ;  and  then,  lifting  up  the  veil  of  shadows, 
He  shows  how  the  marked  contrast  reappears  in  the 
after-Hfe,  but  with  a  strange  inverting.  Now  the  poor 
man  is  blessed,  the  rich  in  distress  ;  the  one  is  enfolded 
in  Abraham's  bosom,  the  other  enveloped  in  flames; 
the  one  has  all  the  delights  of  Paradise,  the  other  begs 
for  just  a  drop  of  water  with  which  to  cool  the  parched 
tongue. 

It  may  be  said  that  this  is  simply  parable,  set  forth 
in  language  which  must  not  be  taken  hterally.  So  it 
is;  but  the  parables  of  Jesus  were  not  mere  word- 
pictures  ;  they  held  in  solution  essential  truth.  And 
when  we  have  ehminated  all  this  figurative  colouring 
there  is  still  left  this  residuary,  elementary  truth,  that 
character  determines   destiny :    that  we  cast  into  our 


•  The  name  "Lazarus  "  is  derived  from  El-ezer,  cr  **God  helps.* 


THE   ESCHATOLOGY  OF  THE   GOSPEL.  361 

future  the  shadow  of  our  present  selves ;  that  the  good 
will  be  blessed,  and  the  evil  unblessed,  which  means 
accursed ;  and  that  heaven  and  hell  are  tremendous 
realities,  whose  pleasures  and  whose  pains  lie  alike 
deep  beyond  the  sounding  of  our  weak  speech.  When 
the  rich  man  forgot  his  duties  to  humanity ;  when  he 
banished  God  from  his  mansion,  and  proscribed  mercy 
from  his  thoughts ;  when  he  left  Heaven's  foundling  to 
the  dogs,  he  was  writing  out  his  book  of  doom,  passing 
sentence  upon  himself.  The  tree  lies  as  it  falls,  and 
it  falls  as  it  leans;  and  where  is  there  place  for  the 
unforgiven,  the  unregenerate,  for  the  sensual  and  the 
selfish,  the  unjust  and  the  unclean,  but  somewhere  in 
the  outer  darkness  they  themselves  have  helped  to 
make  r  To  the  sensual  and  the  vile  heaven  itself 
would  be  a  hell,  its  very  joys  curdling  into  pain,  its 
streets,  thronged  with  the  multitudes  of  the  redeemed, 
offering  to  the  guilty  and  unrenewed  soul  but  a  solitude 
of  silence  and  anguish  ;  and  even  were  there  no  final 
judgment,  no  solemn  pronouncement  of  destiny,  the 
evil  could  never  blend  with  the  good,  the  pure  with 
the  vile  ;  they  would  gravitate,  even  as  they  do  now, 
in  opposite  directions,  each  seeking  its  "own  place." 
Wherever  and  whatever  our  final  heaven  may  be,  no 
one  is  an  outcast  but  who  casts  himself  out,  a  self- 
immolation,  a  suicide. 

But  is  it  destiny  ?  it  may  be  asked.  May  there  not 
be  an  after-probation,  so  that  character  itself  may  be 
transformed  ?  may  not  the  "  great  gulf "  itself  disap- 
pear, or  at  last  be  bridged  over,  so  that  the  repentant 
may  pass  out  of  its  penal  but  purifying  fires  ?  Such, 
indeed,  is  the  belief,  or  rather  the  hope,  of  some ;  but 
"  the  larger  hope  "  as  they  are  pleased  to  call  it,  as  far 
as  this  Gospel  is  concerned,  is  a  beautiful  but  illusive 


36a  rHE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE. 

dream.  He  who  was  Himself  the  "  Resurrection  and 
the  Life,"  and  who  holds  in  His  own  hands  the  keys 
of  death  and  of  Hades,  gives  no  hint  of  such  a  post- 
humous palingenesis.  He  speaks  again  and  again  of 
a  day  of  test  and  scrutiny,  when  actions  will  be  weighed 
and  characters  assayed,  and  when  men  will  be  judged 
according  to  their  works.  Now  it  is  at  the  "  coming  " 
of  the  Son  of  man,  in  the  glory  of  His  Father,  and 
with  a  retinue  of  *'  holy  angels ; "  now  it  is  the  return- 
ing of  the  lord,  and  the  reckoning  with  his  servants ; 
while  again  it  is  at  the  end  of  the  world,  as  the  angel- 
reapers  separate  the  wheat  from  the  tares ;  or  as  He 
Himself,  the  great  Judge,  with  His  "  Come  ye,"  passes 
on  the  faithful  to  the  heavenly  kingdom,  and  at  the 
same  time,  with  His  "Depart  ye,"  drives  from  His 
presence  the  unfaithful  and  unforgiven  into  the  outer 
darkness.  Nor  does  Jesus  say  one  word  to  suggest 
that  the  judgment  is  not  final.  The  blasphemy  against 
the  Holy  Ghost,  whatever  that  may  mean,  shall  not 
be  forgiven  (xii.  lo),  or,  as  St.  Matthew  expresses  it, 
*'  neither  in  this  world,  nor  in  that  which  is  to  come." 
The  unfaithful  servant  is  "  cut  asunder  "  (xii.  46)  ;  the 
enemies  who  would  not  have  their  Lord  to  reign  over 
them  are  slain  (xix.  27) ;  and  when  once  the  door  is 
shut  it  is  all  in  vain  that  those  outside  cry,  "  Lord, 
open  to  us ! "  They  had  an  open  door,  but  they 
slighted  and  scorned  it,  and  now  they  must  abide  by 
their  choice,  outside  the  door,  outside  the  kingdom, 
with  the  "  workers  of  iniquity,"  where  "  there  is  weep- 
ing and  gnashing  of  teeth  "  (xiii.  28). 

Or  if  we  turn  again  to  the  parable  of  the  Rich  Man, 
where  is  there  room  for  "  the  larger  hope "  ?  where 
is  the  suggestion  that  these  "  pains  of  hell "  may  be 
lessened,  and  ultimately  escaped  altogether  ?    We  listen 


THE   ESCHATOLOGY  OF  THE   GOSPEL.  363 


in  vain  for  one  syllable  of  hope.  In  vain  he  makes 
his  appeal  to  "  father  Abraham ; "  in  vain  he  entreats 
the  good  offices  of  Lazarus;  in  vain  he  asks  for  a 
momentary  alleviation  of  his  pain,  in  the  boon  of  one 
drop  of  water:  between  him  and  help,  yea,  between 
him  and  hope,  is  a  **  great  gulf  fixed,  .  .  .  that  none 
may  cross  "  (xvi.  26). 

"That  none  may  cross."  Such  are  the  words  of 
Jesus,  though  here  put  in  the  mouth  of  Abraham ;  and 
if  finality  is  not  here,  where  can  we  find  it  ?  What 
may  be  the  judgment  passed  upon  those  who,  though 
erring,  are  ignorant,  we  cannot  tell,  though  Jesus 
plainly  indicates  that  the  number  of  the  stripes  will 
vary,  as  they  knew,  or  they  did  not  know,  the  Lord's 
will ;  but  for  those  who  had  the  light,  and  turned  from 
it,  who  saw  the  right,  but  did  it  not,  who  heard  the 
Gospel  of  love,  with  its  great  salvation,  and  only  rejected 
it — for  these  there  is  only  an  *' outer  darkness"  of 
eternal  hopelessness.  And  what  is  the  outer  darkness 
itself  but  the  darkness  of  their  own  inner  blindness, 
a  blindness  which  was  wilful  and  persistent  ? 

Our  Gospel  thus  teaches  that  death  does  not  alter 
character,  that  character  makes  destiny,  and  that 
destiny  once  determined  is  unalterable  and  eternal. 
Or,  to  put  it  in  the  words  of  the  angel  to  the  seer,  '*  He 
that  is  unrighteous,  let  him  do  unrighteousness  still : 
and  he  that  is  filthy,  let  him  be  made  filthy  still :  and 
he  that  is  righteous,  let  him  do  righteousness  still : 
and  he  that  is  holy,  let  him  be  made  holy  still "  (Rev 
xzii.  Il)k 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
THE  WATCH  IN  GETHSEMANS, 

HITHERTO  the  life  of  Jesus  has  been  com- 
paratively free  from  sorrow  and  from  pain. 
With  the  exception  of  the  narrow  strip  of  wilderness 
which  fell  between  the  Baptism  and  His  inaugural 
miracle,  the  Divine  Life  has  lain  for  the  most  part  in 
the  sunshine,  above  the  fret  and  fever  of  anxious 
thought  and  care.  True,  He  had  enemies,  whose  hatred 
was  persistent  and  virulent ;  the  shafts  of  calumny  fell 
around  Him  in  one  steady  rain ;  His  motives  were 
constantly  misconstrued,  His  words  misunderstood ;  but 
with  all  this  His  Hfe  was  peace.  How  could  He 
have  spoken  of  "  rest "  of  soul,  and  have  promised  it 
to  the  weary  and  heavy-laden,  if  He  Himself  were  a 
stranger  to  its  experience?  How  could  He  have  awoke 
such  songs  and  shouts  of  gladness,  or  have  strewn  the 
lives  of  men  with  such  unusual  brightness,  without 
having  that  brightness  and  music  coming  back  in 
reflections  and  echoes  within  His  own  heart — that 
heart  which  was  the  fontal  source  of  their  new-found 
joys?  And  if  many  doubted,  or  even  hated  Him, 
there  were  many  who  admired  and  feared,  and  not  a 
few  who  loved  and  adored  Him,  and  who  were  glad  to 
place  at  His  disposal  their  entire  substance,  nay,  their 
entire  selves.  But  if  His  anointing  thus  far  has  been  the 
anointing  of  gladness,  there  is  a  baptism  of  sorrow  and 


THE  WATCH  IN  GETHSEMANE.  365 

anguish  prepared  for  Him,  and  to  that  ordeal  He  now 
proceeds,  first  girding  up  His  soul  with  the  music  of 
a  thanksgiving  psalm.  Let  us,  too,  arise  and  follow 
Him  ;  but  taking  off  our  shoes,  let  us  step  softly  and 
reverently  into  the  mystery  of  the  Divine  sorrow ;  for 
though  we  must  ever  stand  back  from  that  mystery 
more  than  a  "  stone's  cast,"  perhaps,  if  we  keep  mind 
and  heart  awake  and  alert,  we  may  read  something  of 
its  deep  meaning. 

The  whole  scene  of  Gethsemane  is  unique.  Like 
the  Mount  of  Transfiguration,  the  Garden  of  the  Agony 
stands  ** apart"  from  all  other  paths,  in  a  profound 
isolation.  And  in  more  senses  than  this  these  two 
august  scenes  are  related  and  coincident.  Indeed,  we 
cannot  fully  understand  the  mystery  of  the  Garden 
but  as  we  allow  the  mystery  of  the  Mount  to  explain 
it,  in  part  at  least,  so  threading  the  light  of  the  one 
into  the  darkness  of  the  other.  On  the  Mount  of 
Transfiguration  the  Divine  Life,  as  we  have  seen, 
reached  its  culminating  point,  its  perihelion  as  we 
may  call  it,  where  it  touched  the  very  heavens  for  one 
brief  night,  passing  through  its  out-streaming  glories 
and  crossing  the  paths  of  celestials.  In  Gethsemane 
we  have  the  antipodal  fact ;  we  see  the  Divine  Life  in 
its  far  aphelion,  where  it  touches  hell  itself,  moving 
round  in  an  awful  gloom,  and  crossing  the  paths  of  the 
"  powers  of  darkness."  And  so  our  best  outlook  into 
Gethsemane  is  not  from  the  Mount  of  Olives — though 
the  two  names  are  related,  as  the  two  places  are 
adjacent,  Gethsemane  lying  at  the  foot  of  Olivet — but 
from  that  more  distant  Mount  of  Transfiguration. 

Leaving  the  "guest-chamber,"  where  a  Passover  ot 
a  new  order  has  been  instituted,  and  the  cup,  with  its 
fruit  of  the  vine,  has  received  a  higher  consecration, 


366  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

Jesus  leads  the  broken  band  down  the  stairs,  whrch 
still  vibrate  with  the  heavy  tread  of  the  traitor,  and 
in  the  still,  full  moonlight  they  pass  out  of  the  city, 
the  gates  being  open  because  of  the  Passover.  De- 
scending the  steep  ravine,  and  crossing  the  brook 
Kedron,  they  enter  the  enclosure  of  Gethsemane.  Both 
St.  Luke  and  St.  John  tell  us  that  He  was  accustomed 
to  resort  thither — for,  strangely  enough,  we  do  not  read 
of  Jesus  spending  so  much  as  one  night  within  the 
city  walls — and  so  probably  the  garden  belonged  to 
one  of  His  adherents,  possibly  to  St.  Mark.  Bidding 
the  eight  remain  near  the  entrance,  and  exhorting 
them  to  pray  that  they  enter  not  into,  or,  as  it  means 
here,  that  they  "yield  not  to,"  the  temptation  which 
is  shortly  to  come  upon  them,  Jesus  takes  Peter,  James, 
and  John  farther  into  the  garden.  They  were  witnesses 
of  His  Transfiguration,  when  His  face  shone  like  the 
sun,  and  the  spirits  of  the  perfected  came  to  do  Him 
homage ;  they  must  now  see  a  transfiguration  of 
sorrow,  as  that  face  is  furrowed  by  the  sharp  lines  of 
pain,  and  half-masked  by  a  veil  of  blood.  From  the 
narratives  of  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  it  would 
appear  as  if  Jesus  now  experienced  a  sudden  change 
of  feeling.  In  the  guest-chamber  He  was  calmly  con- 
fident; and  though  we  may  detect  in  His  words  and 
symbolic  acts  a  certain  undertone  of  sadness,  the 
salutation  of  one  "about  to  die,"  yet  there  was  no 
tremor,  no  fear.  He  spoke  of  His  own  death,  which 
now  was  near  at  hand,  as  calmly  as  if  the  Mount  of 
Sacrifice  were  but  another  mountain  of  spices ;  while 
to  His  disciples  He  spoke  words  of  cheer  and  hope, 
putting  around  their  hearts  a  soothing,  healing  balm, 
even  before  the  dreadful  wound  is  made.  But  now  all 
this  ii  changed :  "  He  began  to  be  greatly  amazed  and 


THE   WATCH  IN  GETHSEMANE.  367 

sore  troubled  "  (St.  Mark  xiv.  33).  The  word  we  here 
render  "  amazed,"  as  St.  Mark  uses  it,  has  sometimes 
the  element  of  fear  within  it,  as  when  the  women  were 
"amazed,"  or  "affrighted,"  by  the  vision  of  the  angels 
(xvi.  5);  and  such,  we  are  inclined  to  think,  is  its 
meaning  here.  It  was  not  so  much  wonder  as  it  was 
trepidation,  and  a  certain  dread,  which  now  fell  of  a 
sudden  upon  the  Master.  Over  that  pure  soul,  which 
ever  lay  calm  and  serene  as  the  bright  heaven  which 
stooped  to  embrace  it,  has  broken  a  storm  of  conflicting 
winds,  and  dense,  murky  clouds,  and  all  is  disquiet  and 
distress,  where  before  was  nothing  but  peace.  "  My 
soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto  death  ; "  such  is 
the  strange  confession  of  tremulous  lips,  as  for  once 
He  opens  the  infinite  depths  of  His  heart,  and  shows 
the  mortal  grief  which  has  suddenly  fallen  there.  It 
is  the  first  contact  of  the  eclipse,  as  between  Himself 
and  the  Father's  smile  another  world  is  passing,  the 
world  of  the  "  outer  darkness,"  even  hell,  throwing 
down  upon  His  soul  a  chilling,  awful  shadow. 

Jesus  understands  its  meaning.  It  is  the  signal  for 
the  final  battle,  the  shadow  of  "  the  prince  of  this 
world,"  who,  rallying  all  his  forces,  cometh  to  find 
"nothing  in  Me."  Jesus  accepts  the  challenge,  and 
that  He  may  meet  the  enemy  single-handed,  with  no 
earthly  supports.  He  bids  the  three,  "  Abide  ye  here, 
and  watch  with  Me."  "  With  Me,"  and  not "  for  Me ;" 
for  what  could  avail  to  Him  the  vigilance  of  human 
eyes  amid  this  felt  darkness  of  the  soul  ?  It  was  not 
^r  Himself  He  bade  them  "  watch,"  but  for  themselves, 
that  waking  and  praying  they  might  gain  a  strength 
which  would  be  proof  against  temptation,  the  test  which 
would  be  keenly  severe,  and  which  now  was  close  at 
hand. 


368  THE  GOSPEL  Oh   ST.  LUKE. 

"And  He  was  parted  from  them  about  a  stone's 
cast."  The  verb  implies  a  measure  of  constraint,  as 
if,  in  the  conflict  of  emotion,  the  longing  for  some 
human  presence  and  human  sympathy  held  Him  back. 
And  why  not  ?  Is  not  the  very  presence  of  a  friend 
a  solace  in  grief,  even  if  no  words  are  spoken?  and 
does  not  the  "  aloneness  "  of  a  sorrow  make  the  sorrow 
tenfold  more  bitter  ?  Not  like  the  "  stricken  deer  that 
left  the  herd,"  the  human  heart,  when  wounded  or  sore 
pressed,  yearns  for  sympathy,  finding  in  the  silent 
look  or  in  the  touch  of  a  hand  a  grateful  anodyne. 
But  this  wine-press  He  must  tread  alone,  and  of  the 
people  there  must  be  none  with  Him ;  and  so  the 
three  who  are  most  favoured  and  most  beloved  are 
left  back  at  a  stone's  cast  from  the  physical  suffering 
of  Christ,  while  from  His  heart-agony  they  must  stand 
back  at  an  infinite  distance. 

It  was  while  Jesus  was  praying  upon  the  holy 
mount  that  the  heavens  were  opened  unto  Him;  and 
now,  as  another  cloud  envelopes  Him,  not  of  glory,  but 
of  a  thick  darkness,  it  finds  Him  in  the  same  attitude 
of  prayer.  He  at  whose  feet  sinful  man  had  knelt,  all 
unrebuked.  Himself  now  kneels,  as  He  sends  to  heaven 
the  earnest  and  almost  bitter  cry,  "  O  My  Father,  if 
it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  Me  1 "  The  three 
Evangelists  differ  in  their  wording  of  the  Saviour's 
petition,  showing  that  the  spirit  is  more  than  the 
letter  of  prayer ;  that  Heaven  thinks  more  of  the  inner 
thought  than  of  the  outward  drapery  of  words;  but 
the  thought  of  the  three  is  identical,  while  all  make 
prominent  the  central  figure  of  the  *'  cup." 

The  cups  of  Scripture  are  of  divers  patterns  and  of 
varied  meanings.  There  was  the  cup  of  blessing,  like 
that  of  the  Psalmist  (Psalm  xxiii.  5),  filled  to  the  brim 


THE  WATCH  IN  GETHSEMANB,  369 

and  running  over  with  mercy.  There  was  "  the  cup  of 
salvation,  "that  sacrament  of  the  Old  Testament  which 
kept  in  memory  one  deliverance,  that  of  Israel,  while  i| 
prophesied  of  another,  the  "  great  salvation  "  which  was 
to  come.  What,  then,  was  the  cup  Jesus  so  feared  to 
drink,  and  which  He  asked,  so  earnestly  and  repeatedly, 
that  it  might  pass  from  Him  ?  Was  it  the  fear  of 
death?  Certainly  not;  for  how  could  He  be  afraid 
of  death,  who  had  so  triumphed  over  it,  and  who  had 
proclaimed  Himself  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life  ? 
How  could  He  fear  death,  when  He  knew  so  well  "  the 
seraph  face  that  smiled  beneath  the  frowning  mask," 
and  knew  that  it  would  end  for  ever  all  His  sufferings 
and  His  pain  ?  Death  to  Him  was  a  familiar  thought 
He  spoke  of  it  freely,  not  either  with  the  hard  in- 
difference of  the  Stoic,  or  with  the  palsied  speech  of 
one  whose  lips  shake  with  an  inward  fear,  but  in  calm, 
sweet  accents,  as  any  child  of  earth  might  speak  of 
going  home.  Was  this  "  cup,"  then,  the  death  itself? 
and  when  He  asked  that  it  might  pass  away,  was  He 
suggesting  that  possibly  some  mode  of  atonement  might 
be  found  other  than  the  cross  ?  We  think  not.  Jesus 
knew  full  well  that  His  earthly  life  would  have,  and 
could  have,  but  one  issue.  Death  would  be  its  goal, 
as  it  was  its  object.  Whether,  as  Holman  Hunt 
represents,  the  cross  threw  its  shadow  back  as  far  as 
the  shop  at  Nazareth,  we  do  not  know,  for  the  record 
is  silent.  But  we  do  know  that  the  shadow  of  d(  ath 
lay  across  the  whole  of  His  public  life,  for  we  fin  1  it 
appearing  in  His  words.  The  cross  was  a  dark  ind 
vivid  certainty  that  He  wished  neither  to  forget  nor 
to  evade,  for  must  not  the  Son  of  man  be  "  lifted  ip," 
that  He  may  draw  all  men  to  Himself  ?  Must  not  the 
corn  of  wheat  be  hidden   in   its  grave  before  it  can 

24 


370  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

become  fruitful,  throwing  itself  forward  down  the  years 
in  hundredfold  multiplications  ?  Yes ;  death  to  Jesus 
is  the  inevitable,  and  long  before  the  Roman  soldiers 
have  pieced  together  the  transverse  beams  Jesus  had 
made  His  cross,  fashioning  it  in  His  thought,  and 
hiding  it  in  His  words.  Nay,  He  has  this  very  night 
instituted  a  new  sacrament,  in  which,  for  all  genera- 
tions, the  broken  bread  shall  be  the  emblem  of  His 
bruised  and  broken  body,  and  the  wine,  of  His  blood, 
the  blood  of  the  New  Testament,  which  is  shed  for 
man.  And  does  Jesus  now  seek,  by  reiterated  prayers, 
to  shift  that  cross  from  the  Divine  purpose,  substi- 
tuting in  its  place  something  less  painful,  less  cruel  ? 
does  He  seek  now  to  annul  His  own  predictions,  and 
to  make  His  own  sacrament  void  and  meaningless? 
This  cannot  be;  and  so,  whatever  the  "cup"  may 
mean,  we  cannot  take  it  as  a  synonym  for  His 
death. 

What,  then,  is  its  meaning  ?     The  Psalmist  had  long 
before  sung — 

"  For  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord  there  Is  a  cup,  and  the  wine  foameth ; 
It  is  full  of  mixture,  and  He  poureth  out  of  the  same : 
Surely  the  dregs  thereof,  all  the  wicked  of  the  earth  shall  wring 
them  out,  and  drink  them  "  (Psalm  Ixxv.  8) ; 

while  St  John,  speaking  of  the  last  woes  (Rev.  xiv.  lo), 
tells  how  they  who  have  the  mark  of  the  beast  upon 
their  foreheads  "  shall  drink  of  the  wine  of  the  wrath 
of  God,  which  is  prepared  unmixed  in  the  cup  of  His 
anger."  Here,  then,  is  the  "cup"  which  now  is  set 
before  the  Son  of  man,  the  very  touch  of  which  fills 
His  soul  with  unutterable  dread.  It  is  the  cup  of  God's 
anger,  filled  to  the  brim  with  its  strange  red  wine,  the 
wine  of  His  wrath.     Jesus  comes  to  earth  as  the  Re- 


THE   WATCH  IN  GETHSEMANE.  yjl 

presentative  Man,  the  Second  Adam,  in  whom  all  shall 
be  made  alive.  He  voluntarily  assumes  the  place  •£ 
the  transgressor,  as  St.  Paul  writes  (2  Cor.  v.  21),  "  Him 
who  knew  no  sin  He  made  to  be  sin  on  our  behalf;  that 
we  might  become  the  righteousness  of  God  in  Him," 
a  passage  which  corresponds  exactly  with  the  prophetic 
idea  of  substitution,  as  given  by  Isaiah  (Hii.  5),  "He 
was  wounded  for  our  transgressions.  He  was  bruised  for 
our  iniquities  :  the  chastisement  of  our  peace  was  upon 
Him;  and  with  His  stripes  we  are  healed."  And  so 
"  the  iniquity  of  us  all "  was  laid  on  Him,  the  Holy  One. 
In  His  own  Person  He  must  feel,  in  its  concentrated 
forms,  the  smart  and  consequence  of  sin ;  and  as  His 
physical  sufferings  are  the  extremest  pain  even  sin  can 
produce,  so  Jesus  must  suffer,  too,  all  the  mental  anguish, 
the  agony  of  a  soul  bereft  of  God.  And  as  Jesus,  on 
the  Transfiguration  Mount,  passed  up  to  the  very  gate 
of  heaven,  so  lighting  up  with  splendour  and  glory  the 
lost  path  of  unfallen  man,  so  now,  in  the  Garden,  Jesus 
tracks  the  path  of  fallen  man,  right  on  to  its  fearful 
consummation,  which  is  the  "  outer  darkness "  of  hell 
itself.  This  vivid  consciousness  has  been  graciously 
withheld  from  Him  hitherto ;  for  the  terrible  pressure 
would  simply  have  unfitted  Him  for  His  ministry  of 
blessing ;  for  how  could  He  have  been  the  "  kindly 
Light,"  leading  humanity  homeward,  heavenward,  if 
that  Light  Himself  were  hidden  in  '*  encircling  gloom," 
and  lost  in  a  felt  darkness  ?  But  ere  His  mission  is 
complete  this  is  an  experience  that  He  must  know. 
Identifying  Himself  with  sin.  He  must  feel  its  very 
farthest  consequence,  the  awful  solitude,  and  the  un- 
utterable anguish,  of  a  soul  now  bereft  of  hope  and 
forsaken  of  God.  In  the  heathen  fable  Orpheus  goes 
down,  lyre  in  hand,  to  the  Plutonic  realm,  to   bring 


37a  THE  GOSPEL  Of  ST.  LUKE, 

back  again  to  life  and  love  the  lost  Eurydice ;  buf 
Jesus,  in  His  vicarious  sufferings,  goes  down  to  hell 
itself,  that  He  may  win  back  from  their  sins,  and  bear 
in  triumph  to  the  upper  heavens,  a  lost  humanity. 

Rising  from  the  ground,  and  going  back  to  His  three 
disciples,  He  finds  them  asleep.  The  Synoptists  all 
seek  to  explain,  and  to  apologize  for,  their  unnatural 
slumber,  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  telling  us  that 
their  "eyes  were  heavy,'*  while  St.  Luke  states  thai 
their  sleep  was  the  result  of  their  grief;  for,  happily, 
in  the  wonderful  compensations  of  nature,  intense  grief 
does  tend  to  induce  somnolence.  But  while  the  Evan- 
gelists refer  their  slumber  to  natural  causes,  might  there 
not  be  something  more  in  it,  some  supernatural  ele- 
ment ?  Sleep  can  be  caused  by  natural  means,  and  yet 
be  an  unnatural  sleep,  as  when  narcotics  benumb  the 
senses,  or  some  mesmeric  spell  muffles  the  speech,  and 
makes  the  soul  for  a  time  unconscious.  And  might  it 
not  have  been  some  invisible  touch  which  made  their 
eyes  so  heavy  ?  for  it  is  an  exact  repetition  of  their 
attitude  when  on  the  holy  mount,  and  in  that  sleep 
sorrow  certainly  had  no  part.  When  St.  John  saw 
the  vision  upon  Patmos,  he  "fell  at  His  feet  as  one 
dead;"  and  when  Saul  beheld  the  light,  near  Damascus, 
he  fell  to  the  ground.  And  how  often  we  find  the  celes- 
tial vision  connected  with  a  trance-like  state  I  and  why 
may  not  the  "  trance  "  be  an  effect  of  the  vision,  just  as 
well  as  its  cause,  or  rather  its  circumstance  ?  At  any 
rate,  the  fact  is  plain,  that  supernatural  visions  tend  to 
lock  up  the  natural  senses,  the  veil  which  is  uplifted 
before  the  unseen  world  being  wrapped  around  the  eyes 
and  tne  soul  of  the  seer.  And  this,  we  are  inclined  tc 
think,  was  a  possible,  partial  cause  for  the  slumber  upon 
the  mount  and  in   the  garden,  a  sleep  which,  under 


THE    WATCH   IN    GLTUSEMANE.  373 

the  circumstances,  was  strangely  unnatural  and  almost 
unpardonable. 

Addressing  Himself  directly  to  Peter,  who  had 
promised  to  follow  His  Lord  unto  death,  but  whose 
heart  now  strangely  lagged  behind,  and  calling  him  by 
his  earlier  name — for  Jesus  only  once  made  use  of  the 
name  He  Himself  had  chosen ;  the  "  Rock "  was  at 
present  in  a  state  of  flux,  and  had  not  yet  settled  down 
to  its  petrine  character — He  said,  "  What,  Simon,  could 
ye  not  watch  with  Me  one  hour  ?  Watch  and  pray,  that 
ye  enter  not  into  temptation."  Then,  for  a  moment 
forgetting  His  own  sorrow,  and  putting  Himself  in 
their  place,  He  makes  the  apology  for  them  which 
their  lips  are  afraid  to  utter  :  "  The  spirit  indeed  if 
willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak  ; "  so  compassionate  is  He 
over  human  weakness  and  infirmity,  even  while  He  is 
severity  itself  towards  falsity  and  sin. 

St  Luke  records  the  narrative  only  in  a  condensed 
form,  giving  us  the  salient  points,  but  not  entering  so 
fully  into  detail.  It  is  from  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  that 
we  learn  how  Jesus  went  back  a  second  time,  and  falling 
prostrate  on  the  ground,  prayed  still  in  the  self-same 
words,  and  how  He  returned  to  His  disciples  to  find 
them  again  asleep ;  even  the  reproof  of  the  Master  has 
not  been  able  to  counterbalance  the  pressure  of  the 
supernatural  heaviness.  No  word  is  spoken  this  time — 
at  any  rate  the  Evangelists  have  not  repeated  them  for 
us — but  how  eloquent  would  be  that  look  of  disappoint- 
ment and  of  grief  I  and  how  that  rebuke  would  fall 
burning  hot  upon  their  heart,  focussed  in  the  lenses  of 
His  sad  and  tearful  eyes  I  But  the  three  are  dazed, 
bewildered,  and  for  once  the  ready  tongue  of  Peter  it 
speechless ;  "  they  wist  not  what  to  answer  Him " 
(Mark  liv.  40). 


374  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

Not  yet,  however,  is  the  conflict  ended.  Three  times 
did  the  tempter  come  to  Him  in  the  wilderness,  and 
three  times  is  the  fierce  battle  to  be  waged  in  the 
garden,  the  last  the  sorest.  It  would  almost  seem  as 
if  the  three  assaults  were  descending  steps  of  sorrow, 
each  marking  some  lower  deep  in  the  dark  mystery ; 
for  now  the  death-sorrow  becomes  an  "  agony "  of 
spirit,  a  pressure  from  within  so  fearful  as  to  arrest 
the  flow  of  blood,  forcing  it  through  the  opened  pores 
in  an  awful  sweat,  until  great  drops,  or  "  clots,"  of 
blood  gathered  upon  His  face,  and  then  fell  to  the 
ground.  Could  there  be  possibly,  even  for  the  lost, 
an  anguish  more  intense  ?  and  was  not  Jesus  then, 
as  man's  Surety,  wringing  out  and  drinking  the  very 
last  dregs  of  that  cup  of  His  anger  which  "  the  wicked 
of  the  earth,"  if  unredeemed,  had  been  doomed  to 
drink  ?  Verily  He  was,  and  the  bloody  sweat  was  a 
part,  an  earnest,  of  our  atonement,  sprinkling  with  its 
redemptive  virtues  the  very  ground  which  was  **  cursed" 
for  man's  sake  (Gen.  iii.  17).  It  was  the  pledge  and 
the  foregathered  fruit  of  a  death  already  virtually  accom- 
plished, in  the  absolute  surrender  of  the  Divine  Son 
as  man's  Sacrifice. 

And  so  the  thrice-uttered  prayer  of  Jesus,  even 
though  He  prayed  the  "more  earnestly,"  was  not 
granted.  It  was  heard,  and  it  was  answered,  but  not 
in  the  specific  way  of  the  request.  Like  Paul's  prayer 
for  the  removal  of  the  thorn,  and  which,  though  not 
granted,  was  yet  answered  in  the  promise  of  the 
"sufficient"  grace,  so  now  the  thrice-uttered  prayer 
of  Jesus  does  not  remove  the  cup.  It  is  there,  and  it 
is  there  for  Him  to  drink,  as  He  tastes  for  man  both  of 
the  earthly  death  and  of  the  bitterness  of  the  after,  the 
•econd  death.     But  the  answer  came  in  the  strength- 


THt    WAlLH  iA   GETHSEMANE.  375 

ening  of  His  soul,  and  in  the  heavenly  greetings  the 
angel  brought  down  to  Him  when  the  conflict  was  over. 
But  in  this  reiterated  prayer  for  the  removal  of  the  cup 
there  was  no  conflict  between  Himself  and  the  Father. 
The  request  itself  was  enveloped  in  submission,  the 
contingent  "if"  which  preceded  it,  and  the  "not  My 
will,  but  Thine,"  which  followed,  completely  enclosing 
it  The  will  of  Jesus  was  ever  adjusted  to  the  will  of 
the  Father,  working  within  it  in  an  absolute  precision, 
with  no  momentary  breaks.  But  here  the  "  if"  implies 
uncertainty,  doubt  Even  Jesus  is  not  quite  sure  as 
to  what,  in  the  special  case,  the  Father's  will  may 
involve,  and  so,  while  He  asks  for  the  removal  of  the 
cup,  this  is  the  smaller  request,  inlaid  within  the 
larger,  deeper  prayer,  that  "  not  My  will,  but  Thine, 
be  done."  Jesus  did  not  seek  to  bend  the  Father's  will, 
and  make  it  conform  to  His  desires,  but  He  sought, 
whatever  might  be  the  cost,  to  configure  His  desires 
to  that  all-wise  and  all-loving  Will 

So  in  our  smaller  lives  there  may  be  hours  of  distress 
and  uncertainty.  We  may  see,  mingled  for  us,  cups  of 
sorrow,  loss,  or  pain,  which  we  fear  to  drink,  and  the 
shrinking  flesh  may  seek  to  be  exempted  from  the 
ordeal ;  but  let  us  not  too  hastily  ask  that  they  may 
be  put  away,  for  fear  we  may  dismiss  some  cup  of 
blessing  from  our  life.  Let  us  seek  rather  for  a  perfect 
submission  to  the  will  of  God,  conforming  all  our 
desires  and  all  our  prayers  to  that  wiU.  So  in  that 
"  perfect  acquiescence  "  there  will  be  for  us  a  "  perfect 
rest."  Gethsemane  itself  will  t)ecome  bright  and  all 
musical  with  songs,  and  where  the  powers  of  darkness 
mocked  us  Heaven's  angels  will  come,  with  their  sweet 
ministry.  Nay,  the  cup  of  sorrow  and  of  pain,  at  which 
we   trembled   before,   if  we  see  how   God's  will  hat 


jyft  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 


virrought  and  filled  it,  and  we  embrace  that  will,  the 
cup  of  sorrow  wiU  be  a  transfigured  cup,  a  golden 
chalice  of  the  King,  all  filled  to  the  brim,  and  running 
over,  with  the  new  wine  of  the  kingdom. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

THE  PASSION. 
LuKX  zxii.  47 — xxiiL 

WHILE  Jesus  kept  His  sad  watch  in  Gethsemanc, 
treading  the  winepress  alone,  His  enemies  kept 
theirs  in  the  city.  The  step  of  Judas,  as  he  passed 
out  into  the  night,  went  verberating  within  the  house 
of  the  high  priest,  and  onwards  into  the  palace  of  Pilate 
himself,  awaking  a  thousand  echoes,  as  swift  mes- 
sengers flew  hither  and  thither,  bearing  the  hurried 
summons,  calling  the  rulers  and  elders  from  their 
repose,  and  marshalling  the  Roman  cohort  Hitherto 
the  powers  of  darkness  have  been  restrained,  and 
though  they  have,  again  and  again,  attempted  the  life 
of  Jesus,  as  if  some  occult  spell  were  upon  them,  they 
could  not  accomplish  their  purpose.  Far  back  in  the 
Infancy  Herod  had  sought  to  kill  Him ;  but  though  his 
cold  steel  reaped  a  bloody  swath  in  Ramah,  it  could 
not  touch  the  Divine  Child.  The  men  of  Nazareth  had 
sought  to  hurl  Him  down  the  sheer  precipice,  but  He 
escaped ;  Jesus  had  not  come  into  the  world  to  die  at 
Nazareth,  thrown  off,  as  by  an  accident,  from  a  Galilean 
cliff.  He  had  come  to  "  accomplish  His  decease,*'  as 
the  celestials  put  it  upon  the  mount,  ''at  Jerusalem/ 
and  that  too,  as  He  indicated  plainly  and  frequently  ic 


37«  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

His  speech,  upon  a  cross.  Now,  however,  the  hour  of 
darkness  has  struck,  and  the  fulness  of  the  time  has 
come.  The  cross  and  the  Victim  both  are  ready,  and 
Heaven  itself  consents  to  the  great  sacrifice. 

Strangely  enough,  the  first  overture  of  the  "  Passion 
music"  is  by  one  of  the  twelve — as  our  Evangelist 
names  him,  "Judas  who  was  called  Iscariot,  being  of 
the  number  of  the  twelve"  (xxii.  3).  It  will  be 
observed  that  St.  Luke  puts  a  parenthesis  of  forty 
verses  between  the  actual  betrayal  and  its  preliminary 
stages,  so  throwing  the  conception  of  the  plot  back  to 
an  earlier  date  than  the  eve  of  the  Last  Supper,  and 
the  subsequent  narrative  is  best  read  in  the  light  of  its 
programme.  At  first  sight  it  would  appear  as  if  the 
part  of  the  betrayer  were  superfluous,  seeing  that  Jesus 
came  almost  daily  into  the  Temple,  where  He  spoke 
openly,  without  either  reserve  or  fear.  What  need 
could  there  be  for  any  intermediary  to  come  between 
the  chief  priests  and  the  Victim  of  their  hate  ?  Was 
not  His  Person  familiar  to  all  the  Temple  officials  ?  and 
could  they  not  apprehend  Him  almost  at  any  hour? 
Yes,  but  one  thing  stood  in  the  way,  and  that  was 
"  the  fear  of  the  people."  Jesus  evidently  had  an 
influential  following ;  the  popular  sympathies  were  on 
His  side;  and  had  the  attack  been  made  upon  Him 
during  the  day,  in  the  thronged  streets  of  the  city  or 
in  the  Temple  courts,  there  would  have  been,  almost  to 
a  certainty,  a  popular  rising  on  His  behalf.  The  arrest 
must  be  made  "  in  the  absence  of  the  multitude  "  (xxii. 
6),  which  means  that  they  must  fall  upon  Him  in  one 
of  His  quiet  hours,  and  in  one  of  His  quiet  retreats ; 
it  must  be  a  night  attack,  when  the  multitudes  are 
asleep.  Here,  then,  is  room  for  the  betrayer,  who  comes 
at  the  opportune  moment,  and  offers  himself  for  the 


xadl.47— "iiiJ  7"^^  PASSION,  379 

despicable  task,  a  task  which  has  made  the  name  o! 
"  Jiidas  "  a  synonym  for  all  that  is  treacherous  and  vile. 
How  the  base  thought  could  ever  have  come  into  the 
mind  of  Judas  it  were  hard  to  tell,  but  it  certainly  was 
not  sprung  upon  him  as  a  surprise.  But  men  lean  in 
the  direction  of  their  weakness,  and  when  they  fall  it 
is  generally  on  their  weakest  side,  the  side  on  which 
temptation  is  the  strongest.  It  was  so  here.  St.  John 
writes  him  down  in  a  single  sentence  :  "  He  was  a  thief, 
and  having  the  bag,  took  away  what  was  put  therein  " 
(John  xii.  6).  His  ruling  passion  was  the  love  of 
money,  and  in  the  delirium  of  this  fever  his  hot  hands 
dashed  to  the  ground  and  broke  in  pieces  the  tables  of 
law  and  equity  alike,  striking  at  all  the  moralities.  And 
between  robbing  his  Master  and  betraying  Him  there 
was  no  great  distance  to  traverse,  especially  when 
conscience  lay  in  a  numb  stupor,  drugged  by  opiates, 
these  tinctures  of  silver. 

Here,  then,  is  a  betrayer  ready  to  their  hand.  He 
knows  what  hour  is  best,  and  how  to  conduct  them  to 
His  secret  retreats.  And  so  Judas  "  communed  "  with 
the  chief  priests  and  captains,  or  he  "talked  it  over 
with  them  '*  as  the  word  means,  the  secret  conference 
ending  in  a  bargain,  as  they  "  covenanted  "  to  give  him 
money  (xxii.  5).  It  was  a  hard  and  fast  bargain ;  for 
the  word  ''covenanted"  has  about  it  a  metallic  ring, 
and  opening  it  out,  it  lets  us  see  the  wordy  chaffering, 
as  Judas  abates  his  price  to  the  offer  of  the  high  priests, 
the  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  which  was  the  market  price 
of  an  ordinary  slave.  Not  that  Judas  intended  to  be  a 
participator  in  His  death,  as  the  sequel  of  his  remorse 
shows.  He  probably  thought  and  hoped  that  his 
Master  would  escape,  slipping  through  the  meshes  they 
so  cunningly  had  thrown  about  Him  ;  but  having  done 


jSc  THE    r,OSrEL    OF  ST     LUKE 

his  part  of  the  covenant,  his  reward  would  be  sure,  for 
the  thirty  pieces  were  already  in  his  possession.  Ah, 
he  little  dreamed  how  far-reaching  his  action  would  be  1 
That  silver  key  of  his  would  set  in  motion  the  pon- 
derous wheel  which  would  not  stop  until  his  Master 
was  its  Victim,  lying  all  crushed  and  bleeding  beneath 
it  I  He  only  discovered  his  mistake  when,  alas  1  it 
was  too  late  for  remedy.  Gladly  would  he  have  given 
back  his  thirty  pieces,  ay,  and  thirty  times  thirty,  to 
have  called  back  his  treacherous  "  Hail,"  but  he  could 
not.  That  "  Hail,  Master,"  had  gone  beyond  his  recall, 
reverberating  down  the  ages  and  up  among  the  stars, 
while  even  its  echoes,  as  they  came  back  to  him  in 
painful  memories,  threw  him  out  of  the  world  an 
unloved  and  guilty  suicide  I 

What  with  the  cunning  of  the  high  priests  and  the 
cold  calculations  of  Judas,  whose  mind  was  practised 
in  weighing  chances  and  providing  for  contingences, 
the  plot  is  laid  deeply  and  well.  No  detail  is  omitted  : 
the  band  of  soldiers,  who  shall  put  the  stamp  of  official- 
ism upon  the  procedure,  while  at  the  same  time  they 
cower  the  populace  and  repress  any  attempt  at  rescue  ; 
the  swords  and  staves,  should  they  have  to  resort  to 
force ;  the  lanterns  and  torches,  with  which  to  light  up 
the  dark  hiding-places  of  the  garden  ;  the  cords  or 
chains,  with  which  to  bind  their  Prisoner;  the  kiss, 
which  should  be  at  once  the  sign  of  recognition  and 
the  signal  for  the  arrest,  all  are  prearranged  and 
provided  ;  while  back  of  these  the  high  priests  are  keep- 
ing their  midnight  watch,  ready  for  the  mock  trial,  for 
which  the  suborned  witnesses  are  even  now  rehearsing 
their  parts.  Could  worldly  prudence  or  malicious  skill 
go  farther  ? 

Stealthily  as  the  leopard  approaches  its  victim,  the 


xxu.  47— "iii-]  THE  PASSION.  381 

motley  crowd  enter  the  garden,  coming  with  muffled 
steps  to  take  and  lead  away  the  Lamb  of  God.  Only 
the  glimmer  of  their  torches  gave  notice  of  their  ap- 
proach, and  even  these  burned  dull  in  the  intense 
moonlight.  But  Jesus  needed  no  audible  or  visible 
warning,  for  He  Himself  knew  just  how  events  were 
drifting,  reading  the  near  future  as  plainly  as  the  near 
past;  and  before  they  have  come  in  sight  He  has 
awoke  the  three  sleeping  sentinels  with  a  word  which 
will  effectually  drive  slumber  from  their  eyelids :  "  Arise, 
let  us  be  going :  behold,  he  is  at  hand  that  betrayeth 
Me  "  (Matt.  xxvi.  46). 

It  will  be  seen  from  this  that  Jesus  could  easily  have 
eluded  His  pursuers  had  He  cared  to  do  so.  Even 
without  any  appeal  to  His  supernatural  powers,  He 
could  have  withdrawn  Himself  under  cover  of  the 
night,  and  have  left  the  human  sleuth-hounds  foiled  of 
their  prey  and  vainly  baying  at  the  moon.  But  instead 
of  this,  He  makes  no  attempt  at  flight.  He  even  seeks 
the  glades  of  Gethsemane,  when  by  simply  going 
elsewhere  He  might  have  disconcerted  their  plot  and 
brought  their  counsel  to  nought.  And  now  He  yields 
Himself  up  to  His  death,  not  passively  merely,  but 
with  the  entire  and  active  concurrence  of  His  will  He 
"  offered  Himself,"  as  the  writer  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  expresses  it  (Heb.  ix.  14),  a  free-will  Offering, 
a  voluntary  Sacrifice.  He  could,  as  He  Himself  said, 
have  called  legions  of  angels  to  His  help ;  but  He  would 
not  give  the  signal,  though  it  were  no  more  than  one 
uplifted  look.  And  so  He  does  not  refuse  even  the 
kiss  of  treachery  ;  He  suffers  the  hot  lips  of  the  traitor 
to  bum  His  cheeks;  and  when  others  would  have 
shaken  off  the  viper  into  the  fire,  or  have  crushed  it 
with  the  heel  of  a  righteous  indignation,  Jesus  receive! 


$99  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

patiently  the  stamp  of  infamy,  His  only  word  being  a 
question  of  surprise,  not  at  the  treachery  itself,  but  at 
its  mode :  "  Betrayest  thou  the  Son  of  man  with  a 
kiss  ?  **  And  when  for  the  moment,  as  St.  John  tells 
us,  a  strange  awe  fell  upon  the  multitude,  and  they 
"went  backward  and  fell  to  the  ground,"  Jesus,  as  it 
were,  called  in  the  outshining  glories,  masking  them 
with  the  tired  and  blood-stained  humanity  that  He 
wore,  so  stilling  the  tremor  that  was  upon  His  enemies, 
as  He  nerved  the  very  hands  that  should  take  Him. 
And  again,  when  they  do  bind  Him,  He  offers  no  resist- 
ance ;  but  when  Peter's  quick  sword  flashes  from  its 
scabbard,  and  takes  off  the  right  ear  of  Maichus,  the 
servant  of  the  high  priest,  and  so  one  of  the  leaders 
in  the  arrest,  Jesus  asks  for  the  use  of  His  manacled 
hand — for  so  we  read  the  "Suffer  ye  thus  far" — and 
touching  the  ear,  heals  it  at  once.  He  Himself  is 
willing  to  be  wounded  even  unto  death,  but  His 
alone  must  be  the  wounds.  His  enemies  must  not 
share  His  pain,  nor  must  His  disciples  pass  with 
Him  into  this  temple  of  His  sufferings ;  and  He  even 
stays  to  ask  for  them  a  free  parole:  "Let  these  go 
their  way." 

But  while  for  the  disciples  Jesus  has  but  wprds  of 
tender  rebuke  or  of  prayer,  while  for  Maichus  He  has 
a  word  and  a  touch  of  mercy,  and  while  even  for  Judas 
He  has  an  endearing  epithet,  "friend,"  for  the  chief 
priests,  captains,  and  elders  He  has  severer  words. 
They  are  the  ringleaders,  the  plotters.  All  this  com- 
motion, this  needless  parade  of  hostile  strength,  these 
superfluous  insults  are  but  the  foaming  of  their  rabid 
frenzy,  the  blossoming  of  their  malicious  hate;  and 
turning  to  them  as  they  stand  gloating  in  their  super- 
cilious scorn,  He  asks,  "  Are  ye  come  out,  as  against  a 


xxU.47— xzlfL]  THE  PASSION.  3«3 

robber,  with  swords  and  staves  ?  When  I  was  daily 
with  you  in  the  Temple,  ye  stretched  not  forth  your 
han'Js  against  Me  :  but  this  is  your  hour,  and  the  power 
of  darkness."  True  words,  for  they  who  should  have 
been  priests  of  Heaven  are  in  league  with  hell,  willing 
ministers  of  the  powers  of  darkness.  And  this  was 
indeed  their  hour,  but  the  hour  of  their  victory  would 
prove  the  hour  of  their  doom. 

St  Luke,  as  do  the  other  Synoptists,  omits  the 
preliminary  trial  before  Annas,  the  ex-high  priest 
(John  xviii.  13),  and  leads  us  direct  to  the  palace  of 
Caiaphas,  whither  they  conduct  Jesus  bound.  Instead, 
however,  of  pursuing  the  main  narrative,  he  lingers  to 
gather  up  the  side-lights  of  the  palace-yard,  as  they 
cast  a  lurid  light  upon  the  character  of  Simon.  Some 
time  before,  Jesus  had  forewarned  him  of  a  coming 
ordeal,  and  which  He  called  a  Satanic  sifting ;  while 
only  a  few  hours  ago  He  had  prophesied  that  this 
night,  before  the  cock  should  crow  twice,  Peter  would 
thrice  deny  Him — a  singular  prediction,  and  one  which 
at  the  time  seemed  most  unlikely,  but  which  proved 
true  to  the  very  letter.  After  the  encounter  in  the 
garden,  Peter  retires  from  our  sight  for  awhile ;  but 
his  flight  was  neither  far  nor  long,  for  as  the  proces- 
sion moves  up  towards  the  city  Peter  and  John  follow 
it  as  a  rear-guard,  on  to  the  house  of  Annas,  and  now 
to  the  house  of  Caiaphas.  We  need  not  repeat  the 
details  of  the  story — how  John  passed  him  through  the 
door  into  the  inner  court,  and  how  he  sat,  or  '*  stood,** 
as  St.  John  puts  it,  by  the  charcoal  fire,  warming  him- 
self with  the  officers  and  servants.  The  differing  verbs 
only  show  the  restlessness  of  the  man,  which  was  a 
life-long  characteristic  of  Peter,  but  which  would  be 
doubly  accentuated  here,  with  suspecting  eyes  focussed 


384  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE. 

upon  him.  Indeed,  in  the  whole  scene  of  the  court- 
yard, as  sketched  for  us  in  the  varying  but  not  dis- 
cordant narratives  of  the  Evangelists,  we  may  detect 
the  vibrations  of  constant  movement  and  the  ripple- 
marks  of  intense  excitement. 

When  challenged  the  first  time,  by  the  maid  who 
kept  the  door,  Peter  answered  with  a  sharp,  blunt 
negative:  he  was  not  a  disciple;  he  did  not  even 
know  Him.  At  the  second  challenge,  by  another 
maid,  he  replied  with  an  absolute  denial,  but  added  to 
his  denial  the  confirmation  of  an  oath.  At  the  third 
challenge,  by  one  of  the  men  standing  near,  he  denied 
as  before,  but  added  to  his  denial  both  an  oath  and  an 
anathema.  It  is  rather  unfortunate  that  our  version 
renders  it  (Matt.  xxvi.  74;  Mark  xiv.  71),  "He  began  to 
curse  and  to  swear ; "  for  these  words  have  a  peculiarly 
ill  savour,  a  taste  of  Billingsgate,  which  the  original 
words  have  not.  To  our  ear,  "  to  curse  and  to  swear  " 
are  the  accomplishments  of  a  loose  and  a  foul  tongue, 
which  throws  out  its  fires  of  passion  in  profanity,  or  in 
coarse  obscenities,  as  it  revels  in  immoralities  of  speech. 
The  words  in  the  New  Testament,  however,  have  a 
meaning  altogether  different.  Here  "  to  swear  "  means 
to  take  an  oath,  as  in  our  courts  of  law,  or  rather  to 
make  an  affirmation.  Even  God  Himself  is  spoken  of  as 
swearing,  as  in  the  song  of  Zacharias  (i.  73),  where 
He  is  said  to  have  remembered  His  holy  covenant, 
"  the  oath  which  He  sware  unto  Abraham  our  father." 
Indeed,  this  form  of  speech,  the  oath  or  affirmation, 
had  come  into  too  general  use,  as  we  may  see  from  the 
paragraph  upon  oaths  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount 
(Matt.  v.  33-37).  Jesus  here  condemned  it,  it  is  true, 
for  to  Him  who  was  Truth  itself  our  word  should  be  as 
our  bond ;  but  His  reference  to  it  shows  how  prevalent 


ixii.  47— xxiiL]  THE  PASSION,  385 

the  custom  was,  even  amongst  strict  legalists  tnd 
moralists.  When,  then,  Peter  "swore,"  it  does  not  mean 
that  he  suddenly  became  profane,  but  simply  that  he 
backed  up  his  denial  with  a  solemn  affirmation.  So, 
too,  with  the  word  "curse;"  it  has  not  our  modern 
meaning.  Literally  rendered,  it  would  be,  "  He  put 
himself  under  an  anathema,"  which  '* anathema"  was 
the  bond  or  penalty  he  was  willing  to  pay  if  his  words 
should  not  be  true.  In  Acts  xxiii.  12  we  have  the 
cognate  word,  where  the  *' anathema"  was,  "They  would 
neither  eat  nor  drink  till  they  had  killed  Paul."  The 
"curse"  thus  was  nothing  immoral  in  itself;  it  was  a 
form  of  speech  even  the  purest  might  use,  a  sort  of 
underlined  affirmation. 

But  though  the  language  of  Peter  was  neither  profane 
nor  foul,  though  in  his  "oath"  and  in  his  "curse" 
there  is  nothing  for  which  the  purest  taste  need 
apologize,  yet  here  was  his  sin,  his  grievous  sin :  he 
made  use  of  the  oath  and  the  curse  to  back  up  a 
deliberate  and  cowardly  lie,  even  as  men  to-day  will 
kiss  the  book  to  make  God's  Word  of  truth  a  cover 
for  perjury.  How  shall  we  explain  the  sad  fall  of 
this  captain-disciple,  who  was  first  and  foremost  of 
the  Twelve?  Were  these  denials  but  the  "wild  and 
wandering  cries "  of  some  delirium  ?  We  find  that 
Peter's  lips  did  sometimes  throw  off  unreasoning  and 
untimely  words,  speaking  like  one  in  a  dream,  as  he 
proposed  the  three  tabernacles  on  the  mount,  "not 
knowing  what  he  said."  But  this  is  no  delirium,  no 
ecstasy;  his  mind  is  clear  as  the  sky  overhead,  his 
thought  bright  and  sharp  as  was  his  sword  just  now. 
No,  it  was  not  a  failure  in  the  reason ;  it  was  a  sadder 
failure  in  the  heart.  Of  physical  courage  Simon  had 
an  abundance,  but  he  was  somewhat  deficient  in  moral 

as 


386  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

courage.  His  surname  "  Peter  "  was  as  yet  but  a  fore- 
name, a  prophecy ;  for  the  "  rock  "-gianite  was  yet  in 
a  state  of  flux,  pliant,  somewhat  wavering,  and  too 
easily  impressed.  It  must  **  be  dipped  in  baths  of  hiss- 
ing tears"  ere  it  hardens  into  the  foundation-rock  for 
the  new  temple.  In  the  garden  he  was  too  ready,  too 
brave.  "Shall  we  smite  with  the  sword?"  he  asked, 
matching  the  "we,"  which  numbered  two  swords, 
against  a  whole  Roman  cohort;  but  that  was  in  the 
presence  of  his  Master,  and  in  the  consciousness  of 
strength  which  that  Presence  gave.  It  is  different 
now.  His  Master  is  Himself  a  bound  and  helpless 
Prisoner.  His  own  sword  is  taken  from  him,  or,  which 
is  the  same  thing,  it  is  ordered  to  its  sheath.  The 
bright  dream  of  temporal  sovereignty,  which  like  a 
beautiful  mirage  had  played  on  the  horizon  of  his 
thought,  had  suddenly  faded,  withdrawing  itself  into 
the  darkness.  Simon  is  disappointed,  perplexed,  be- 
wildered, and  with  hopes  shattered,  faith  stunned,  and 
love  itself  in  a  momentary  conflict  with  self-love,  he 
loses  heart  and  becomes  demoralized,  his  better  nature 
falling  to  pieces  like  a  routed  army. 

Such  were  the  conditions  of  Peter's  denial,  the  strain 
and  pressure  under  which  his  courage  and  his  faith 
gave  way,  and  almost  before  he  knew  it  he  had  thrice 
denied  his  Lord,  tossing  away  the  Christ  he  would  die 
for  on  his  cold,  impetuous  words,  as,  with  a  tinge  of 
disrespect  in  his  tone  and  word,  he  called  Him  "  the 
Man."  But  hardly  had  the  denial  been  made  and  the 
anathema  been  said  when  suddenly  the  cock  crew.  It 
was  but  the  familiar  call  of  an  unwitting  bird,  but  it 
smote  upon  Peter's  ear  like  a  near  clap  of  thunder ;  it 
brought  to  his  mind  those  words  of  his  Master,  which 
he  had  thought  were  uncertain  parable,  but  which  he 


xztt.47— zziU.)  THE  PASSION. 


finds  now  were  certain  prophecy,  and  thus  let  in  • 
rush  of  sweet,  old-time  memories.  Conscience-stricken, 
and  with  a  load  of  terrible  guilt  pressing  upon  his  soul, 
he  looks  up  timidly  towards  the  Lord  he  has  forsworn. 
Will  He  deny  hintf  on  one  of  His  bitter  "  woes  '*  cast- 
ing him  down  to  the  Gehenna  he  deserves?  No; 
Jesus  looks  upon  Peter;  nay,  He  even  ** turns"  round 
toward  him,  that  He  may  look ;  and  as  Peter  saw  that 
look,  the  face  all  streaked  with  blood  and  lined  with  an 
unutterable  anguish,  when  he  felt  that  glance  fixed 
upon  him  of  an  upbraiding  but  a  pitying  and  forgiving 
love,  that  look  of  Jesus  pierced  the  inmost  soul  of  the 
denying,  agnostic  disciple,  breaking  up  the  fountains  of 
his  heart,  and  sending  him  out  to  weep  "  bitterly." 
That  look  was  the  supreme  moment  in  Peter's  life.  It 
forgave,  while  it  rebuked  him ;  it  passed  through  his 
nature  like  refining  fire,  burning  out  what  was  weak, 
and  selfish  and  sordid,  and  transforming  Simon,  the 
boaster,  the  man  of  words,  into  Peter,  the  man  of 
deeds,  the  man  of  "  rock." 

But  if  in  the  outer  court  truth  is  thrown  to  the  winds, 
within  the  palace  justice  herself  is  parodied.  It  would 
seem  as  if  the  first  interview  of  Caiaphas  with  Jesus 
were  private,  or  in  the  presence  at  most  of  a  few 
personal  attendants.  But  at  this  meeting,  as  the  High 
Priest  of  the  New  was  arraigned  before  the  high  priest 
of  the  Old  Dispensation,  nothing  was  elicited.  Ques- 
tioned as  to  His  disciples  and  as  to  His  doctrine,  Jesus 
maintained  a  dignified  silence,  only  speaking  to  remind 
His  pseudo-judge  that  there  were  certain  rules  of  pro- 
cedure with  which  he  himself  was  bound  to  comply. 
He  would  not  enlighten  him;  what  He  had  said  He 
had  said  openly,  in  the  Temple;  and  if  he  wished  to 
know  he  must  appeal  to  those  who  heard  Him,  he  must 


388  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

call  his  witnesses;  an  answer  which  brought  Him  a 
sharp  and  cruel  blow  from  one  of  the  officers,  the  first 
of  a  sad  rain  of  blows  which  bruised  His  flesh  and 
made  His  visage  marred  more  than  any  man's. 

The  private  interview  ended,  the  doors  were  thrown 
open  to  the  mixed  company  of  chief  priests,  elders,  and 
scribes,  probably  the  same  as  had  witnessed  the  arrest, 
with  others  of  the  council  who  had  been  hastily  sum- 
moned, and  who  were  known  to  be  avowedly  hostile 
to  Jesus.  It  certainly  was  not  a  properly  constituted 
tribunal,  a  council  of  the  Sanhedrim,  which  alone  had 
the  power  to  adjudicate  on  questions  purely  religious. 
It  was  rather  a  packed  jury,  a  Star  Chamber  of  self- 
appointed  assessors.  With  the  exception  that  witnesses 
were  called  (and  even  these  were  "false,"  with  dis- 
crepant stories  which  neutralized  their  testimony  and 
made  it  valueless),  the  whole  proceedings  were  a  hurried 
travesty  of  justice,  unconstitutional,  and  so  illegal.  But 
such  was  the  virulent  hate  of  the  hierarchy  of  the 
Temple,  they  were  prepared  to  break  through  all 
legalities  to  gain  their  end ;  yea,  they  would  even 
have  broken  the  tables  of  the  law  themselves,  if  they 
might  only  have  stoned  the  Nazarene  with  the  frag- 
ments, and  then  have  buried  Him  under  the  rude  cairn. 
The  only  testimony  they  could  find  was  that  He  had 
said  He  would  destroy  the  temple  made  with  hands, 
and  in  three  days  build  another  made  without  hands 
(Mark  xiv.  58) ;  and  even  in  this  the  statements  of 
the  two  witnesses  did  not  agree,  while  both  were 
garbled  misrepresentations  of  the  truth. 

Hitherto  Jesus  had  remained  silent,  and  when 
Caiaphas  sprang  from  his  seat,  asking,  "Answerest 
Thou  nothing  ?  "  seeking  to  extract  some  broken  speech 
by  the  pressure  of  an  imperious  mien  and  browbeating 


Kxii  47  -«iii.]  THE  PASSION.  389 

words,  Jesus  answered  by  a  majestic  silence.  Why 
should  He  cast  His  pearls  before  these  swine,  who 
were  even  now  turning  upon  Him  to  rend  Him  ?  But 
when  the  high  priest  asked,  "Art  Thou  the  Christ?" 
Jesus  replied,  "  If  I  tell  you,  ye  will  not  believe :  and 
if  I  ask  you,  ye  will  not  answer.  But  from  henceforth 
shall  the  Son  of  man  be  seated  at  the  right  hand  of  the 
power  of  God ; "  thus  anticipating  His  enthronement 
far  above  all  principalities  and  powers,  in  His  eternal 
reign.  The  words  "  Son  of  man  "  struck  with  loud 
vibrations  upon  the  ears  of  His  enraged  jurors,  sug- 
gesting the  antithesis,  and  immediately  all  speak  at  once, 
as  they  clamour,  "  Art  Thou,  then,  the  Son  of  God  ?  " 
a  question  which  Caiaphas  repeats  as  an  adjuration,  and 
which  Jesus  answers  with  a  brief,  calm,  "  Ye  say  that 
I  am."  It  was  a  Divine  confession,  at  once  the  con- 
fession of  His  Messiahship  and  a  confession  of  His 
Divinity.  It  was  all  that  His  enemies  wanted ;  there 
was  no  need  of  further  witnesses,  and  Caiaphas  rent 
his  clothes  and  asked  his  echoes  of  what  the  blasphemer 
was  worthy?  And  opening  their  clenched  teeth,  his 
echoes  shouted,  "  Death  1 " 

The  lingering  dawn  had  not  broken  when  the  high 
priest  and  his  barking  hounds  had  run  their  Prey  down 
to  death — that  is,  as  far  as  they  were  allowed  to  go ; 
and  as  the  meeting  of  the  full  council  could  not  be 
held  till  the  broad  daylight,  the  men  who  have  Jesus 
in  charge  extemporize  a  little  interlude  of  their  own. 
Setting  Jesus  in  the  midst,  they  mock  Him,  and  make 
sport  of  Him,  heaping  upon  that  Face,  still  streaked 
with  its  sweat  of  blood,  all  the  indignities  a  malign 
ingenuity  can  suggest  Now  they  "cover  His  face" 
(Mark  xiv.  65),  throwing  around  it  one  of  their  loose 
robes;  now   they   "blindfold"   Him,  and  then  strike 


390  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

"Him  on  the  face"  (xxii.  64),  as  they  derisively  ask 
that  He  will  prophecy  who  smote  Him  ;  while,  again, 
they  "  spit  in  His  face  "  (Matt.  xxvi.  67),  besmearing 
it  with  the  venom  of  unclean,  hissing  lips  I  And  amid 
it  all  the  patient  Sufferer  answers  not  a  word ;  He  la 
silent,  dumb,  the  Lamb  before  His  shearers. 

Soon  as  the  day  had  fairly  broke,  the  Sanhedrists, 
with  the  chief  priests,  meet  in  full  council,  to  give  effect 
to  the  decision  of  the  earlier  conclave ;  and  since  it 
is  not  in  their  power  to  do  more,  they  determine  to 
hand  Jesus  over  to  the  secular  power,  going  to  Pilate 
in  a  body,  thus  giving  their  informal  endorsement  to 
the  demand  for  His  death.  So  now  the  scene  shifts 
from  the  palace  of  Caiaphas  to  the  Praetorium,  a  short 
distance  as  measured  by  the  linear  scale,  but  a  far 
remove  if  we  gauge  thought  or  if  we  consider  climatic 
influences.  The  palace  of  Caiaphas  lay  toward  the 
Orient ;  t>  e  Praetorium  was  a  growth  of  the  Occident, 
a  bit  of  Western  life  transplanted  to  the  once  fruitful, 
but  now  sterile  East.  Within  the  palace  the  air  was 
close  and  mouldy ;  thought  could  not  breathe,  and 
religion  was  little  more  than  a  mummy,  tightly  bound 
by  the  grave-clothes  of  tradition,  and  all  scented  with 
old-time  cosmetics.  Within  the  Praetorium  the  atmo- 
sphere was  at  least  freer ;  there  was  more  room  to 
breathe ;  for  Rome  was  a  sort  of  libertine  in  rehgion, 
finding  room  within  her  Pantheon  for  all  the  deities 
of  this  and  almost  any  other  world.  In  matters  of 
religion  the  Roman  power  was  perfectly  indifferent, 
her  only  policy  the  policy  of  laissez  faire;  and  when 
Pilate  first  saw  Jesus  and  His  crowd  of  accusers  he 
sought  to  dismiss  them  at  once,  remitting  Him  to  be 
judged  "  according  to  your  law,"  putting,  doubtless,  an 
inflection  of  contempt  upon  the  "your."     It  wa»  not 


Hdi.47--MriiLJ  THE  PASSION.  391 

until  they  had  shifted  the  charge  altogether,  making 
it  one  of  sedition  instead  of  blasphemy,  as  they  accuse 
Jesus  of  "  perverting  our  nation,  and  forbidding  to 
give  tribute  to  Caesar,"  that  Pilate  took  the  case 
seriously  in  hand.  But  from  the  first  his  sympathies 
evidently  were  with  the  strange  and  lonely  Prophet. 

Left  comparatively  alone  with  Pilate — for  the  crowd 
would  not  risk  the  defilement  of  the  Praetorium — Jesus 
still  maintained  a  dignified  reserve  and  silence,  not  even 
speaking  to  Pilate's  question  of  surprise,  **Answerest 
Thou  nothing  ?  **  Jesus  would  speak  no  word  in  self- 
defence,  not  even  to  take  out  the  twist  His  accusers 
had  put  into  His  words,  as  they  distorted  their  meaning. 
When,  however,  He  was  questioned  as  to  His  mission 
and  Royalty  He  spoke  directly,  as  He  had  spoken  before 
to  Caiaphas,  not,  however,  claiming  to  be  King  of  the 
Jews,  as  His  enemies  asserted,  but  Lord  of  a  kingdom 
which  was  not  of  this  world ;  that  is,  not  Hke  earthly 
empires,  whose  bounds  are  mountains  and  seas,  and 
whose  thrones  rest  upon  pillars  of  steel,  the  carnal 
weapons  which  first  upbuild,  and  then  support  them. 
He  was  a  King  indeed ;  but  His  realm  was  the  wide 
realm  of  mind  and  heart ;  His  was  a  kingdom  in  which 
love  was  law,  and  love  was  force,  a  kingdom  which 
had  no  limitations  of  speech,  and  no  bounds,  either  of 
time  or  space. 

Pilate  was  perplexed  and  awed.  Governor  though 
he  was,  he  mentally  did  homage  before  the  strange 
Imperator  whose  nature  was  imperial,  whatever  His 
realm  might  be.  **  I  find  no  fault  in  this  Man,"  he 
said,  attesting  the  innocence  he  had  discovered  in  the 
mien  and  tones  of  his  Prisoner;  but  his  attestation 
only  awoke  a  fiercer  cry  from  the  chief  priests,  **  that  He 
was  a  seditious   person,  stirring  up   the  people^  and 


39a  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

preparing  insurrection  even  from  Galilee  to  Jerusalem." 
The  word  Galilee  caught  Pilate's  ear,  and  at  once 
suggested  a  plan  that  would  shift  the  responsibility 
from  himself.  He  would  change  the  venue  from  Judaea 
to  Galilee ;  and  since  the  Prisoner  was  a  Galilean,  he 
would  send  Him  to  the  Tetrarch  of  Galilee,  Herod, 
who  happened  to  be  in  Jerusalem  at  the  time.  It  was 
the  stratagem  of  a  wavering  mind,  of  a  man  whose 
courage  was  not  equal  to  his  convictions,  of  a  man 
with  a  double  purpose.  He  would  like  to  save  his 
Prisoner,  but  he  must  save  himself ;  and  when  the  two 
purposes  came  into  collision,  as  they  did  soon,  the 
"might"  of  a  timid  desire  had  to  give  way  to  the 
"  must "  of  a  prudential  necessity ;  the  Christ  was 
pushed  aside  and  nailed  to  a  cross,  that  Self  might 
survive  and  reign.  And  so  "  Pilate  sent  Him  to 
Herod." 

Herod  was  proud  to  have  this  deference  shown  him 
in  Jerusalem,  and  by  his  rival,  too,  and  "exceeding 
glad  "  that,  by  a  caprice  of  fortune,  his  long-cherished 
desire,  which  had  been  baffled  hitherto,  of  seeing  the 
Prophet  of  Galilee,  should  be  realized.  He  found  it, 
however,  a  disappointing  and  barren  interview;  for 
Jesus  would  work  no  miracle,  as  he  had  hoped ;  He 
would  not  even  speak.  To  all  the  questions  and  threats 
of  Herod,  Jesus  maintained  a  rigid  and  almost  scornful 
silence ;  and  though  to  Pilate  He  had  spoken  at  some 
length,  Jesus  would  have  no  intercourse  with  the  mur- 
derer of  the  Baptist.  Herod  had  silenced  the  Voice 
of  the  wilderness ;  he  should  not  hear  the  Incarnate 
Word.  Jesus  thus  set  Herod  at  nought,  counting  him 
as  a  nothing,  ignoring  him  purposely  and  utterly  ;  and 
stung  with  rage  that  his  authority  should  be  thus  con- 
temned before  the  chief  priests  and  scribes,  Herod  set 


ndL 47— «iii)  THE  PASSION.  393 

his  Victim  "at  nought/*  mocking  Him  in  coarse  banter; 
and  as  if  the  whole  proceeding  were  but  a  farce,  a  bit 
of  comedy,  he  invests  Him  with  one  of  his  gUttering 
robes,  and  sends  the  Prophet-King  back  to  Pilate. 

For  a  brief  space  Jesus  finds  shelter  by  the  judgment- 
seat,  removed  from  the  presence  of  His  accusers,  though 
still  within  hearing  of  their  cries,  as  Pilate  himself 
keeps  the  wolves  at  bay.  Intensely  desirous  of  acquit- 
ting his  Prisoner,  he  leaves  the  seat  of  judgnient  to 
become  His  advocate.  He  appeals  to  their  sense  of 
justice ;  that  Jesus  is  entirely  innocent  of  any  crime  or 
fault.  They  reply  that  according  to  their  law  He  ought 
to  die,  because  He  called  Himself  the  "  Son  of  God." 
He  appeals  to  their  custom  of  having  some  prisoner 
released  at  this  feast,  and  he  suggests  that  it  would  be 
a  personal  favour  if  they  would  permit  him  to  release 
Jesus.  They  answer,  "  Not  this  man,  but  Barabbas." 
He  offers  to  meet  them  half-way,  in  a  sort  of  com- 
promise, and  out  of  deference  to  their  wishes  he  will 
chastise  Jesus  if  they  will  consent  to  let  Him  go  ;  but 
it  is  not  chastisement  they  want — they  themselves  could 
have  done  that — but  death.  He  appeals  to  their  pity, 
leading  Jesus  forth,  wearing  the  purple  robe,  as  if  to 
ask,  "  Is  it  not  enough  already  ?  "  but  they  cry  even 
more  fiercely  for  His  death.  Then  he  yields  so  far  to 
their  clamour  as  to  deliver  up  Jesus  to  be  mocked  and 
scourged,  as  the  soldiers  play  at  '*  royalty,"  arraying 
Him  in  the  purple  robe,  putting  a  reed  in  His  hand  as 
a  mock  sceptre,  and  a  crown  of  thorns  upon  His  head, 
then  turning  to  smite  Him  on  the  head,  to  spit  in  His 
face,  and  to  kneel  before  Him  in  mock  homage,  saluting 
Him,  "  Hail,  King  of  the  Jews  I "  And  Pilate  allows 
all  this,  himself  leading  Jesus  forth  in  this  mock  array, 
as  he  bids  the  crowd,  "Behold  your  King  I"  And  why? 


394  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

has  He  experienced  such  a  revulsion  of  feeling  towards 
his  Prisoner  that  he  can  now  vie  with  the  chief  priests 
in  his  coarse  insult  of  Jesus  ?  Not  so  ;  but  it  is  Pilate's 
last  appeal  It  is  a  sop  thrown  out  to  the  mob,  in  hopes 
that  it  may  slake  their  terrible  blood-thirst,  a  sacrifice 
of  pain  and  shame  which  may  perhaps  prevent  the 
greater  sacrifice  of  life  ;  while  at  the  same  time  it  is  an 
ocular  demonstration  of  the  incongruity  of  their  charge ; 
for  His  Kingship,  whatever  it  might  be,  was  nothing 
the  Roman  power  had  to  fear  ;  it  was  not  even  to  be 
taken  in  a  serious  way  ;  it  was  a  matter  for  ridicule, 
and  not  for  revenge,  something  they  could  easily  afford 
to  play  with.  But  this  last  appeal  was  futile  as  the 
others  had  been,  and  the  crowd  only  became  more 
fierce  as  they  saw  in  Pilate  traces  of  weakening  and 
wavering.  At  last  the  courage  of  Pilate  breaks  down 
utterly  before  the  threat  that  he  will  not  be  Caesar's 
friend  if  he  let  this  man  go,  and  he  delivers  up  Jesus 
to  their  will,  not,  however,  before  he  has  called  for 
water,  and  by  a  symbolic  washing  of  his  hands  has 
thrown  back,  or  tried  to  throw  back,  upon  his  accusers, 
the  crime  of  shedding  innocent  blood.  Weak,  wavering 
Pilate— 

"  Making  his  high  place  the  lawless  perch 
Of  winged  ambitions  ;  " 

overridden  by  his  fears  ;  governor,  but  governed  by  his 
subjects ;  sitting  on  the  judgment-seat,  and  then  abdi- 
cating his  position  of  judge;  the  personification  of 
law,  and  condemning  the  Innocent  contrary  to  the  law ; 
giving  up  to  the  extremest  penalty  and  punishment  One 
whom  he  has  thrice  proclaimed  as  guiltless,  without 
fault,  and  that,  too,  in  the  face  of  a  Heaven-sent  warn- 
ing dream  I  In  the  wild  inrush  of  his  fears,  which 
swept  over  him  like  an  inbreaking  sea,  his  own  weak 


«xH.47— xxiii]  THE  PASSION,  995 

will  was  borne  down,  and  reason,  right,  conscience,  all 
were  drowned.  Verily  Pilate  washes  his  hands  in 
vain  ;  he  cannot  wipe  off  his  responsibility  or  wipe  out 
the  deep  stains  of  blood. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  last  act  of  the  strange 
drama,  which  the  four  Evangelists  give  from  their 
different  stand-points,  and  so  with  varying  but  not 
differing  details.  We  will  read  it  mainly  from  the 
narrative  of  St.  Luke.  The  shadow  of  the  cross  has 
long  been  a  vivid  conception  of  His  mind,  and  again 
and  again  we  can  see  its  reflection  in  the  current  of 
His  clear  speech ;  now,  however,  it  is  present  to  His 
sight,  close  at  hand,  a  grim  and  terrible  reality.  It  is 
laid  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  Sufferer,  and  the  Victim 
carries  His  altar  through  the  streets  of  the  city  and 
up  towards  the  Mount  of  Sacrifice,  until  He  faints 
beneath  the  burden,  when  the  precious  load  is  laid 
upon  Simon  the  Cyrenian,  who,  coming  out  of  the 
country,  met  the  procession  as  it  issued  from  the  gate. 
It  was  probably  during  this  halt  by  the  way  that  the 
incident  occurred,  related  only  by  our  Evangelist,  when 
the  women  who  followed  with  the  multitude  broke  out 
into  loud  lamentation  and  weeping,  the  first  expression 
of  human  sympathy  Jesus  has  received  through  all  the 
agonies  of  the  long  morning.  And  even  this  sympathy 
He  gave  back  to  those  who  proffered  it,  bidding  these 
"  daughters  of  Jerusalem  "  weep  not  for  Him,  but  for 
themselves  and  for  their  children,  because  of  the  day 
of  doom  which  was  fast  coming  upon  their  city  and  on 
them.  Thus  Jesus  pushes  from  Him  the  cup  of  human 
sympathy,  as  afterwards  He  refused  the  cup  of  mingled 
wine  and  myrrh :  He  would  drink  the  bitter  draught 
unsweetened ;  alone  and  all  unaided  He  would  wrestle 
with  death,  and  conquer. 


596  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

It  is  somewhat  singular  that  none  of  the  Evangelists 
have  left  us  a  clue  by  which  we  can  recognize,  with 
any  certainty,  the  scene  of  the  Crucifixion.  In  our 
thoughts  and  in  our  songs  Calvary  is  a  mount,  towering 
high  among  the  mounts  of  God,  higher  than  Sinai 
itself.  And  such  it  is,  potentially ;  for  it  has  the  sweep 
of  all  the  earth,  and  touches  heaven.  But  the  Scrip- 
tures do  not  call  it  a  "  mount,"  but  only  a  "  place.** 
Indeed,  the  name  of  "Calvary"  does  not  appear  in 
Scripture,  except  as  the  Latin  translation  of  the  Greek 
Kram'on,  or  the  Hebrew  Golgotha,  both  of  which  mean 
"  the  place  of  the  skull."  All  that  we  can  safely  say 
is  that  it  was  probably  some  rounded  eminence,  as 
the  name  would  indicate,  and  as  modem  explorations 
would  suggest,  on  the  north  of  the  city,  near  the  tomb 
of  Jeremiah. 

But  if  the  site  of  the  cross  is  only  given  us  in  a 
casual  way,  its  position  is  noted  by  all  the  Evangelists 
with  exactness.  It  was  between  the  crosses  of  two 
malefactors  or  bandits;  as  St.  John  puts  it,  in  an 
emphatic,  Divine  tautology,  "On  either  side  one,  and 
Jesus  in  the  midst."  Possibly  they  intended  it  as 
their  last  insult,  heaping  shame  upon  shame;  but 
unwittingly  they  only  fulfilled  the  Scripture,  which  had 
prophesied  that  He  would  be  "numbered  among  the 
transgressors,"  and  that  He  would  make  His  grave 
"  with  the  wicked  "  in  His  death. 

St  Luke  omits  several  details,  which  St.  John,  who 
was  an  eye-witness,  could  give  more  fully;  but  he 
stays  to  speak  of  the  parting  of  His  raiment,  and  he 
adds,  what  the  others  omit,  the  prayer  for  His  execu- 
tioners, "  Father,  forgive  them  ;  for  they  know  not  what 
they  do,"  an  incident  he  probably  had  heard  from  one 
of  the  band  of  crucifiers,  perhaps  the  centurion  himsel£ 


xxii.  47— xxiH.]  THE  PASSION.  397 

With  a   true  artistic  skill,  however,  and  with  brief 
touches,  he  draws  for  us  the  scene  on  which  all  ages 
will  reverently  gaze.     In  the  foreground  is  the  cross 
of  Jesus,  with  its  trilingual  superscription,    "  This   is 
the  King  of  the  Jews ;  '*  while  close  beside  it  are  the 
crosses   of  the   thieves,    whose   very    faces   St.    Luke 
lights  up  with  life  and  character.     Standing  near  are 
the  soldiers,  relieving  the  ennui  with   cruel    sport,  as 
they   rail   at   the  Christ,    offering    Him   vinegar,    and 
bidding  Him  come  down.     Then  we  have  the  rulers, 
crowding  up  near  the  cross,  scoffing,  and  pelting  their 
Victim  with  ribald  jests,  the  "  people  "  standing  back, 
beholding;  while  "afar  off,"  in  the  distance,  are  His 
acquaintance  and  the  women  from  Galilee.     But  if  our 
Evangelist  touches  these  incidents  lightly,  he  lingers 
to  give  us  one  scene  of  the  cross  in  full,  which  the 
other  Evangelists  omit.     Has  Jesus  found  an  advocate 
in  Pilate?  has  He  found  a  cross-bearer  in  the  Cyre- 
nian,    and    sympathisers    in    the    lamenting  women  ? 
He   finds   now  upon    His   cross  a   testimony  to  His 
Messiahship  more   clear  and   more  eloquent  than  the 
hieroglyphs   of  Pilate;   for  when  one  of  the   thieves 
railed  upon  Him,  shouting  out  "  Christ "  in  mockery, 
Jesus  made  no  reply.     The  other  answered  for  Him, 
rebuking  his  fellow,  while  attesting  the  innocence  of 
Jesus.     Then,  with  a  prayer  in  which  penitence  and 
faith  were  strangely  blended,  he  turned  to  the  Divine 
Victim  and  said,   "Jesus,  remember  me  when  Thou 
comest  in  Thy  kingdom."     Rare  faith  I     Through  the 
tears  of  his  penitence,  as  through  lenses  of  light,  he 
sees  the  new  Dawn  to  which  this  fearful  night  will 
give   birth,   the  kingdom  which  is  sure  to  come,  and 
which,  coming,  will  abide,  and  he  salutes   the  dying 
One  as  Christ,  the  King  I     Jesui  did  not  reply  to  the 


398  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 

railer;  He  received  in  silence  his  barbed  taunts;  but 
to  this  cry  for  mercy  Jesus  had  a  quick  response — 
**  To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  Me  in  Paradise,"  so 
admitting  the  penitent  into  His  kingdom  at  once,  and, 
ere  the  day  is  spent,  passing  him  up  to  the  abodes  of 
the  Blessed,  even  to  Paradise  itself. 

And  now  there  comes  the  hush  of  a  great  silence 
and  the  awe  of  a  strange  darkness.  From  the  sixth 
to  the  ninth  hour,  over  the  cross,  and  the  city,  and 
the  land,  hung  the  shadow  of  an  untimely  night,  when 
the  "  sun's  light  failed,"  as  our  Evangelist  puts  it ; 
while  in  the  Temple  was  another  portent,  the  veil,  which 
was  suspended  between  the  Holy  Place  and  the  Most 
Holy,  being  rent  in  the  midst  I  The  mysterious  dark- 
ness was  but  the  pall  for  a  mysterious  death ;  for  Jesus 
cried  with  a  loud  voice  into  the  gSoom,  **  Father,  into 
Thy  hands  I  commend  My  spirit,"  and  then,  as  it  reads 
in  language  which  is  not  applied  to  mortal  man,  "  He 
gave  up  the  ghost."  He  dismissed  His  spirit,  a  perfectly 
voluntary  Sacrifice,  laying  down  the  life  which  no  man 
was  able  to  take  from  Him. 

And  why  ?  What  meant  this  death,  which  was  at 
once  the  end  and  the  crown  of  His  life  ?  What  meant 
the  cross,  which  thus  draws  to  itself  all  the  lines  of 
His  earthly  life,  while  it  throws  its  shadow  back  into 
the  Old  Dispensation,  over  all  its  altars  and  its  pass- 
overs  ?  To  other  mortals  death  is  but  an  appendix 
to  the  life,  a  negation,  a  something  we  could  dispense 
with,  were  it  possible  thus  to  be  exempt  from  the  bond 
we  all  must  pay  to  Nature.  But  not  so  was  it  with 
Jesus.  He  was  born  that  He  might  die;  He  lived 
that  He  might  die;  it  was  for  this  hour  on  Calvary 
that  He  came  into  the  world,  the  Word  being  made 
flesh,  that  the  sacred  flesh  might  be  transfixed  to  a 


«di.47— xxiH.l  THE  PASSION,  |99 

cross,  and  buried  in  an  earthly  grave.  Surely,  then,  it 
was  not  05  man  that  Jesus  died  ;  He  died /or  man  ;  He 
died  as  the  Son  of  God  I  And  when  upon  the  cross 
the  horror  of  a  great  darkness  fell  upon  His  soul,  and 
He  who  had  borne  every  torture  that  earth  could 
inflict  without  one  murmur  of  impatience  or  cry  of 
pain,  cried,  with  a  terrible  anguish  in  His  voice,  *'  My 
God,  My  God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  Me?"  we 
can  interpret  the  great  horror  and  the  strange  cry  but 
in  one  way  :  the  Lamb  of  God  was  bearing  away  the 
sin  of  the  world ;  He  was  tasting  for  man  the  bitter 
pains  of  the  second  death  ;  and  as  He  drinks  the  cup 
of  the  wrath  of  God  against  sin  He  feels  passing  over 
Him  the  awful  loneliness  of  a  soul  bereft  of  God,  the 
chill  of  the  **  outer  darkness  "  itself.  Jesus  lived  as  our 
Example ;  He  died  as  our  Atonement,  opening  by  His 
blood  the  Holiest  of  all,  even  His  highest  heaven. 

And  so  the  cross  of  Jesus  must  ever  remain  *'  in  the 
midst,"  the  one  bright  centre  of  all  our  hopes  and  all 
our  songs ;  it  must  be  *'  in  the  midst "  of  our  toil,  at 
once  our  pattern  of  service  and  our  inspiration.  Nay, 
the  cross  of  Jesus  will  be  "  in  the  midst  "  of  heaven 
itself,  the  centre  towards  which  the  circles  of  redeemed 
saints  will  bow,  and  round  which  the  ceaseless  "Alleluia" 
will  roll ;  for  what  is  **  the  Lamb  in  the  midst  of  the 
throne  "  (Rev.  vii.  17)  but  the  cross  transfigured,  and 
the  Lamb  eternally  enthroned  ? 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

THE  FIRST  LORD'S  DAY. 

St.  Liriu  xxiv. 

THE  Sabbath  came  and  went  over  the  grave  of  its 
Lord,  and  silence  reigned  in  Joseph's  garden, 
broken  only  by  the  mailed  sentinels,  who  laughed  and 
chatted  by  the  sealed  sepulchre.  As  to  the  disciples, 
this  *'high  day"  is  a  dies  non  to  them,  for  the  curtain 
of  a  deep  silence  hides  them  from  our  view.  Did  they 
go  up  to  the  Temple  to  join  in  the  Psalm,  how  *'  His 
mercy  endureth  for  ever  "  ?  Scarcely  :  their  thoughts 
were  transfixed  to  the  cross,  which  haunted  them  like 
a  horrid  dream ;  its  rude  dark  wood  had  stunned  them 
for  awhile,  as  it  broke  down  their  faith  and  shattered 
all  their  hopes.  But  if  the  constellation  of  the  Apostles 
passes  into  temporary  eclipse,  with  no  beam  of  inspired 
light  falling  upon  them,  "  the  women "  are  not  thus 
hidden,  for  we  re'=id  "And  on  the  Sabbath  day  they 
rested,  according  to  the  commandment."  It  is  true  it 
is  but  a  negative  attitude  that  is  portrayed,  but  it  is 
an  exceedingly  beautiful  one.  It  is  Love  waiting  upon 
Duty.  The  voices  of  their  grief  are  not  allowed  to 
become  so  excessive  and  clamorous  as  to  drown  the 
Divine  voice,  speaking  through  the  ages,  "  Remember 
that  thou  keep  holy  the  Sabbath  day ; "  and  even  the 
fragrant  offerings  of  their  devotion  are  set  aside,  that 
they  may  keep  inviolate  the  Sabbath  rest. 


«ziT.]  THE  FIRST  LORD'S  DAY,  ^% 

But  if  the  spices  of  the  women  are  the  spikenard 
ind  myrrh  of  a  mingled  love  and  grief,  they  are  at  the 
same  time  a  tacit  admission  of  their  error.  They  prove 
conclusively  that  the  women,  at  any  rate,  had  no  thought 
of  a  resurrection.  It  appears  strange  to  us  that  such 
should  be  the  case,  after  the  frequent  references  Jesus 
made  to  His  death  and  rising  again.  But  evidently 
the  disciples  attached  to  these  sayings  of 'Jesus  one 
of  those  deeper,  farther-off  meanings  which  were  so 
characteristic  of  His  speech,  interpreting  in  some 
mysterious  spiritual  sense  what  was  intended  to  be 
read  in  a  strict  literalness.  At  present  nothing  could 
be  farther  from  their  thoughts  than  a  resurrection ;  it 
had  not  even  occurred  to  them  as  a  possible  thing ; 
and  instead  of  being  something  to  which  they  were 
ready  to  give  a  credulous  assent,  or  a  myth  which 
came  all  shaped  and  winged  out  of  their  own  heated 
imaginings,  it  was  something  altogether  foreign  to  their 
thoughts,  and  which,  when  it  did  occur,  only  by  many 
infallible  proofs  was  recognized  and  admitted  into  their 
hearts  as  truth.  And  so  the  very  spices  the  women 
prepare  for  the  embalming  are  a  silent  but  a  fragrant 
testimony  to  the  reality  of  the  Resurrection.  They 
show  the  drift  of  the  disciples'  thought,  that  when  the 
stone  was  rolled  to  the  door  of  the  sepulchre  it  shut 
in  to  the  darkness,  and  buried,  all  their  hopes.  The 
only  Easter  they  knew,  or  even  dreamed  of,  was  that 
first  and  final  Easter  of  the  last  day. 

As  soon  as  the  restraint  of  the  Sabbath  was  over,  the 
women  turned  again  to  their  labour  of  love,  preparing 
the  ointment  and  spices  for  the  embalming,  and  coming 
with  the  early  dawn  to  the  sepulchre.  Though  it  was 
*  yet  dark,"  as  St.  John  tells  us,  they  did  not  anticipate 
any  difficulty  from  the  city  gates,  for  these  were  left 

36 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE, 


open  both  by  night  and  day  during  the  Passover  feast ; 
but  the  thought  did  occur  to  them  on  the  way  as  to 
how  they  should  roll  back  the  stone,  a  task  for  which 
they  had  not  prepared,  and  which  was  evidently  beyond 
their  unaided  strength.  Their  question,  however,  had 
been  answered  in  anticipation,  for  when  they  reached 
the  garden  the  stone  was  rolled  away,  and  the  sepul- 
chre all  exposed.  Surprised  and  startled  by  the  dis- 
covery, their  surprise  deepened  into  consternation  as 
passing  within  the  sepulchre,  they  found  that  the  body 
of  Jesus,  on  which  they  had  come  to  perform  the  last 
kind  offices  of  affection,  had  disappeared.  And  how  ? 
could  there  be  more  than  one  solution  of  the  enigma  ? 
The  enemies  of  Jesus  had  surely  laid  violent  hands 
upon  the  tomb,  rifling  it  of  the  precious  dust  they 
sorrowfully  had  committed  to  its  keeping,  reserving  it 
for  fresh  indignities.  St.  John  supplements  the  nar- 
rative of  our  Evangelist,  telling  how  the  Magdalene, 
sUpping  out  from  the  rest,  **  ran "  back  to  the  city  to 
announce,  in  half-hysterical  speech,  "They  have  taken 
away  the  Lord  out  of  the  tomb,  and  we  know  not  where 
they  have  laid  Him ; "  for  though  St.  John  names  but 
the  Magdalene,  the  "  we  "  implies  that  she  was  but  one 
of  a  group  of  ministering  women,  a  group  that  she  had 
abruptly  left.  The  rest  hngered  by  the  tomb  perplexed, 
with  reason  blinded  by  the  whirling  clouds  of  doubt, 
when  suddenly — the  ''  behold  "  indicates  a  swift  surprise 
— "  two  men  stood  by  them  in  dazzhng  apparel" 

In  speaking  of  them  as  **two  men"  probably  our  Evan- 
gelist only  intended  to  call  attention  to  the  humanness 
of  their  form,  as  in  verse  23  he  speaks  of  the  appearance 
as  "  a  vision  of  angels."  It  will  be  observed,  however, 
that  in  the  New  Testament  the  two  words  **  men  "  and 
"  angels  "  are  used  interchangeably ;  as  in  St.  Luke  viL 


xxiv.J  THE  FIRST  LORD'S  DAY.  403 

24,  Rev.  xxii.  8,  where  the  "angels"  are  evidently 
men,  while  in  Mark  xvi.  5,  and  again  in  the  verse  before 
us,  the  so-called  "  men  "  are  angels.  But  does  not  this 
interchangeable  use  of  the  words  imply  a  close  relation 
between  the  two  orders  of  being  ?  and  is  it  not  possible 
that  in  the  eternal  ripenings  and  evolutions  of  heaven 
a  perfected  humanity  may  pass  up  into  the  angelic 
ranks?  At  any  rate,  we  do  know  that  when  angels 
have  appeared  on  earth  there  has  been  a  strange 
humanness  about  them.  They  have  not  even  had  the 
fictitious  wings  which  poetry  has  woven  for  them  ;  they 
have  nearly  always  appeared  wearing  the  human  face 
Divine,  and  speaking  with  the  tones  and  in  the  tongues 
of  men,  as  if  it  were  their  native  speech. 

But  if  their  form  is  earthly,  their  dress  is  heavenly. 
Their  garments  flash  and  glitter  like  the  robes  of  the 
transfigured  Christ ;  and  awed  by  the  supernatural 
portent,  the  women  bow  down  their  faces  to  the  earth. 
"  Why,"  asked  the  angels,  **  seek  ye  the  living  among 
the  dead  ?  He  is  not  here,  but  is  risen :  remember  how 
He  spake  unto  you  when  He  was  yet  in  Galilee,  saying 
that  the  Son  of  man  must  be  delivered  up  into  the 
hands  of  sinful  men,  and  be  crucified,  and  the  third  day 
rise  again."  Even  the  angels  are  not  allowed  to  dis- 
close the  secret  of  His  resurrection  life,  or  to  tell  where 
He  may  be  found,  but  they  announce  the  fact  that  they 
are  not  at  liberty  to  explain.  **  He  is  not  here ;  He  is 
risen,"  is  the  Gospel  of  the  angels,  a  Gospel  whose 
prelude  they  themselves  have  heard,  but,  alas!  forgotten; 
and  since  Heaven  does  not  reveal  what  by  searching 
we  ourselves  may  find  out,  the  angels  throw  them 
back  upon  their  own  recollections,  recalling  the  words 
Jesus  Himself  had  spoken,  and  which,  had  they  been 
understood  and  remembered,  would  have  lighted  up  the 


404  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  LUKE. 

empty  sepulchre  and  have  solved  the  great  mystery. 
And  how  much  we  lose  because  we  do  not  remember, 
or  if  remembering,  we  do  not  believe  I  Divine  words 
have  been  spoken,  and  spoken  to  us,  but  to  our  ear, 
dulled  by  unbelief,  they  have  come  as  empty  sound,  all 
inarticulate,  and  we  have  said  it  was  some  thunder  in 
the  sky  or  the  voices  of  a  passing  wind.  How  many 
promises,  which,  like  the  harps  of  God,  would  have 
made  even  our  wildernesses  vocal,  have  we  hung  up,  sad 
and  silent,  on  the  willows  of  the  "  strange  lands  "  I  If 
we  only  "  remembered  "  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
if  they  became  to  us  real  and  eternally  true,  instead  of 
being  the  unreal  voices  of  a  dream,  those  words  would 
be,  not  "the  distant  lamps"  of  Heaven,  but  near  at 
hand,  lighting  up  all  dark  places,  because  throwing 
their  light  within,  turning  even  the  graves  of  our  buried 
hopes  into  sanctuaries  of  joy  and  praise  ! 

And  so  the  women,  instead  of  embalming  their  Lord, 
carried  their  spices  back  unused.  Not  unused,  however, 
for  in  the  spices  and  ointments  the  Living  One  did 
not  need  their  own  names  were  embalmed,  a  fragrant 
memory.  Coming  to  the  tomb,  as  they  thought,  to  do 
homage  to  a  dead  Christ,  the  Magdalene,  and  Mary, 
and  Johanna,  and  Salome  found  a  Christ  who  had 
conquered  death,  and  at  the  same  time  found  an 
immortality  for  themselves;  for  the  fragrance  of  their 
thought,  which  was  not  permitted  to  ripen  into  deeds, 
has  filled  the  whole  world. 

Returning  to  the  city,  whither  the  Magdalene  had 
outrun  them,  they  announced  to  the  rest,  as  she  had 
done  to  Peter  and  John,  the  fact  of  the  empty  grave; 
but  they  completed  the  story  with  the  narrative  of  the 
angelic  vision  and  the  statement  that  Jesus  had  risen. 
So  little,  however,  were  the  disciples  predisposed  to 


Ddv.J  THE  FIRST  LORD'S  DAY.  40^ 

receive  the  tidings  of  a  resurrection,  they  would  not 
admit  the  fact  even  when  attested  by  at  least  four 
witnesses,  but  set  it  down  as  idle,  silly  talk,  something 
which  was  not  only  void  of  truth,  but  void  of  sense. 
Only  Peter  and  John  of  the  Apostles,  as  far  as  we 
know,  visited  the  sepulchre,  and  even  they  doubted, 
though  they  found  the  tomb  empty  and  the  linen  clothes 
carefully  wrapped  up.  They  **  believed  "  that  the  body 
had  disappeared,  but,  as  St.  John  tells  us,  '*as  yet  they 
knew  not  the  Scripture,  that  He  must  rise  again  from 
the  dead  "  (St.  John  xx.  9) ;  and  as  they  leave  the  empty 
grave  to  return  to  their  6wn  home,  they  only  "  wondered 
at  that  which  was  come  to  pass."  It  was  an  enigma 
they  could  not  solve ;  and  though  the  Easter  morning 
had  now  fully  broke,  the  day  which  should  light  all 
days,  as  it  drew  to  itself  the  honours  and  songs  of  the 
Sabbath,  yet  to  the  minds  and  hearts  of  the  Apostles  it 
was  "  yet  dark ; "  the  glory  of  the  Lord  had  not  yet 
risen  upon  them. 

And  now  comes  one  of  those  beautiful  pictures, 
peculiar  to  St.  Luke,  as  he  lights  up  the  Judaean  hills 
with  a  soft  afterglow,  an  afterglow  which  at  the  same  time 
is  the  aurora  of  a  new  dawn.  It  was  in  the  afternoon 
of  that  first  Lord's  day,  when  two  disciples  set  out  from 
Jerusalem  for  Emmaus,  a  village,  probably  the  modern 
Khamasa,  sixty  furlongs  from  the  city.  Who  the  two 
disciples  were  we  cannot  say,  for  one  is  unnamed, 
while  the  other  bears  a  name,  Cleopas,  we  do  not  meet 
with  elsewhere,  though  its  Greek  origin  would  lead  us 
to  infer  that  he  was  some  Gentile  proselyte  who  had 
attached  himself  to  Jesus.  As  to  the  second,  we  have 
not  even  the  clue  of  an  obscure  name  with  which  to 
identify  him,  and  in  this  somewhat  strange  anonymity 
some  expositors  have  thought  they  detected  the  shadow 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE. 


of  the  Evangelist,  Luke,  himself.  The  supposition  is 
not  an  impossible  one ;  for  though  St.  Luke  was  not  an 
eye-witness  from  the  beginning,  he  might  have  witnessed 
some  of  the  closing  scenes  of  the  Divine  life ;  while  the 
very  minuteness  of  detail  which  characterizes  his  story 
would  almost  show  that  if  not  himself  a  participant,  he 
was  closely  related  to  those  who  were ;  but  had  St  Luke 
himself  been  the  favoured  one,  it  is  scarcely  likely 
that  he  would  have  omitted  this  personal  testimony 
when  speaking  of  the  "many  infallible  proofs"  of  His 
resurrection. 

Whoever  the  two  might  be,  it  is  certain  that  they 
enjoyed  the  esteem  and  confidence  of  the  disciples, 
having  free  access,  even  at  untimely  hours,  to  the 
Apostolic  circle,  while  the  fact  that  Jesus  Himself 
sought  their  company,  and  selected  them  to  such 
honours,  shows  the  high  place  which  was  accorded  to 
them  in  the  Divine  regard. 

We  are  not  apprised  of  the  object  of  their  journey ; 
indeed,  they  themselves  seem  to  have  lost  sight  of  that 
in  the  gleams  of  glory  which,  all  unexpected,  fell  across 
their  path.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  it  was  connected 
with  recent  events;  for  now  that  the  central  Sun, 
around  whom  their  lives  revolved,  has  disappeared, 
will  not  those  lives  necessarily  take  new  directions, 
or  drift  back  into  the  old  orbits  ?  But  whatever  their 
purposes  might  be,  their  thoughts  are  retrospective 
rather  than  prospective;  for  while  their  faces  are  set 
towards  Emmaus,  and  their  feet  are  steadily  measuring 
off  the  furlongs  of  the  journey,  their  thoughts  are 
lingering  behind,  clinging  to  the  dark  crest  of  Calvary, 
as  the  cloud-pennon  clings  to  the  Alpine  peak.  They 
can  speak  but  of  one  theme,  **  these  things  which  have 
happened : "  the  One  whom  they  took  to  be  the  Christ, 


iriT.]  THE  FIRST  LORD'S  DAY.  407 

to  whom  their  hearts  had  been  so  strangely  drawn ; 
His  character,  miracles,  and  words ;  the  ignominious 
Death,  in  which  that  Life,  with  all  their  hopes,  was 
quenched ;  and  then  the  strange  tidings  which  had 
been  brought  by  the  women,  as  to  how  they  had  found 
the  grave  empty,  and  how  they  had  seen  a  vision  of 
angels.  The  word  "questioned  together'*  generally 
implies  a  difference  of  opinion,  and  refers  to  the  cross- 
questioning  of  disputants ;  but  in  this  case  it  probably 
referred  only  to  the  innumerable  questions  the  report  of 
the  Resurrection  would  raise  in  their  minds,  the  honest 
doubts  and  difficulties  with  which  they  felt  themselves 
compelled  to  grapple. 

It  was  while  they  were  discussing  these  new  prob- 
lems, walking  leisurely  along  the  road — for  men  walk 
heavily  when  weighted  at  the  heart — a  Stranger  over- 
took and  joined  them,  asking,  after  the  usual  salutation, 
which  would  not  be  omitted,  "What  communications 
are  these  that  ye  have  one  with  another,  as  ye 
walk  ?  "  The  very  form  of  the  question  would  help 
to  disguise  the  familiar  voice,  while  the  changed 
"  form "  of  which  St.  Mark  speaks  would  somewhat 
mask  the  familiar  features ;  but  at  the  same  time  it 
would  appear  that  there  was  a  supernatural  holding  of 
their  eyes,  as  if  a  dusky  veil  were  wrapped  about  the 
Stranger.  His  question  startled  them,  even  as  a  voice 
Trom  another  world,  as,  indeed,  it  seemed  ;  and  stopping 
suddenly,  they  turned  their  "  sad  "  faces  to  the  Stranger 
in  a  momentary  and  silent  astonishment,  a  silence 
which  Cleopas  broke  by  asking,  **  Dost  thou  alone 
sojourn  in  Jerusalem,  and  not  know  the  things  which 
arc  come  to  pass  there  in  these  days?"  a  double 
question,  to  which  the  stranger  replied  with  the  brief 
interrogative,  "  What  things  ?"    It  needed  no  more  than 


THE  GOSPEL   OF  ST.  LUKE, 


that  solitary  word  to  unseal  the  fountain  of  their  lips 
for  the  clouds  which  had  broken  so  wildly  and  darkly 
over  Calvary  had  filled  their  hearts  with  an  intense  and 
bitter  grief,  which  longed  for  expression,  even  for  the 
poor  relief  of  words.  And  so  they  break  in  together 
with  their  answer  (the  pronoun  is  changed  now), 
"  Concerning  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  which  was  a  Prophet 
mighty  in  deed  and  word  before  God  and  all  the  people : 
and  how  the  chief  priests  and  our  rulers  delivered  Him 
up  to  be  condemned  to  death,  and  crucified  Him.  But 
we  hoped  that  it  was  He  which  should  redeem  Israel. 
Yea,  and  beside  all  this,  it  is  now  the  third  day  since 
these  things  came  to  pass.  Moreover  certain  women 
of  our  company  amazed  us,  having  been  early  at  the 
tomb ;  and  when  they  found  not  His  body,  they  came, 
saying,  that  they  had  also  seen  a  vision  of  angels,  which 
said  that  He  was  alive.  And  certain  of  them  that  were 
with  us  went  to  the  tomb,  and  found  it  even  so  as  the 
women  had  said :  but  Him  they  saw  not." 

It  is  the  impetuous  language  of  intense  feeling,  in 
which  hope  and  despair  strike  alternate  chords.  In 
the  first  strain  Jesus  of  Nazareth  is  lifted  high  ;  He  is 
a  Prophet  mighty  in  word  and  deed ;  then  He  is  stricken 
down,  condemned  to  death,  and  crucified.  Again,  hope 
speaks,  recalling  the  bright  dream  of  a  redemption  for 
Israel ;  but  having  spoken  that  word,  Hope  herself 
goes  aside  to  weep  by  the  grave  where  her  Redeemer 
was  hurriedly  buried.  Still  again  is  the  glimmer  of  a 
new  light,  as  the  women  bring  home  the  message  of 
the  angels ;  but  still  again  the  hght  sets  in  darkness, 
a  gloom  which  neither  the  eyes  of  Reason  nor  of  Faith 
could  as  yet  pierce  ;  for  '*  Him  they  saw  not "  marks 
the  totality  of  the  eclipse,  pointing  to  a  void  of  darkness, 
A  firmament  without  a  sun  or  star. 


«xiv.3  THE  FIRST  LORD'S  DAY,  409 

But  incidentally,  in  the  swift  current  of  their  speech, 
we  catch  a  reflection  of  the  Christ  as  He  appeared  to 
their  minds.  He  was  indeed  a  Prophet,  second  to 
none,  and  in  their  hope  He  was  more,  for  He  was  the 
Redeemer  of  Israel.  It  is  evident  the  disciples  had 
not  yet  grasped  the  full  purport  of  the  Messianic 
mission.  Their  thought  was  hazy,  obscure,  like  the 
vision  of  men  walking  in  a  mist.  The  Hebrew  dream 
of  a  temporal  sovereignty  seems  to  have  been  a  pre- 
vailing, perhaps  the  prevailing  force  in  their  minds,  the 
attraction  which  drew  and  cheered  them  on.  But  their 
Redeemer  was  but  a  local,  temporal  one,  who  will 
restore  the  kingdom  to  Israel ;  He  was  not  yet  the 
Redeemer  of  the  world,  who  should  save  His  people 
from  their  sins.  The  "  regeneration,"  as  they  fondly 
called  it,  the  "  new  creation,"  was  purely  national,  when 
out  of  the  chaos  of  Roman  irruptions  their  Hebrew 
paradise  will  come.  For  one  thing,  the  disciples  were 
too  near  the  Divine  life  to  see  its  just  and  large  pro- 
portions. They  must  stand  back  from  it  the  distance 
of  a  Pentecost ;  they  must  look  on  it  through  their 
lenses  of  flame,  before  they  can  take  in  the  profound 
meaning  of  that  Life,  or  the  awful  mystery  of  that 
Death.  At  present  their  vision  is  out  of  focus,  and  all 
they  can  see  is  the  blurred  and  shadowy  outline  of 
the  reality,  the  temporal  rather  than  the  spiritual,  a 
redeemed  nationality  rather  than  a  redeemed  and  re- 
generated humanity. 

The  risen  Jesus,  for  such  the  Stranger  was,  though 
they  knew  it  not,  listened  to  their  requiem  patiently 
and  wonderingly,  glad  to  find  within  their  hearts  such 
deep  and  genuine  love,  which  even  the  cross  and  the 
grave  had  not  been  able  to  extinguish.  The  men 
themselves  were  true,  even   though  their  views  were 


4IO  THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE. 

somewhat  warped — the  refractions  of  their  Hebrew 
atmosphere.  And  Jesus  leads  them  in  thought  to 
those  "  shining  uplands  "  of  truth  ;  as  it  were,  spurring 
them  on,  by  a  sharp  though  kind  rebuke,  to  the  heights 
where  Divine  thoughts  and  purposes  move  on  to  their 
fulfilment.  "O  foolish  men,"  He  said,  "and  slow  of 
heart  to  believe  in  all  that  the  prophets  have  spoken  I 
Behoved  it  not  the  Christ  to  suffer  these  things,  and  to 
enter  into  His  glory  ?  "  They  thought  He  was  some 
stranger  in  Jerusalem,  yet  He  knows  their  prophets 
better  than  themselves ;  and  hark.  He  puts  in  a  word 
they  had  feared  to  use.  They  only  called  Him  "  Jesus 
of  Nazareth ; "  they  did  not  give  Him  that  higher  title 
of  "the  Christ"  which  they  had  freely  used  before. 
No ;  for  the  cross  had  rudely  shattered  and  broken 
that  golden  censer,  in  which  they  had  been  wont  to 
burn  a  royal  incense.  But  here  the  Stranger  recasts 
their  broken,  golden  word,  burning  its  sweet.  Divine 
incense  even  in  presence  of  the  cross,  calling  the 
Crucified  the  "  Christ "  I  Verily,  this  Stranger  has 
more  faith  than  they ;  and  they  still  their  garrulous 
lips,  which  speak  so  randomly,  to  hear  the  new  and 
august  Teacher,  whose  voice  was  an  echo  of  the  Truth, 
if  not  the  Truth  itself ! 

"And  beginning  from  Moses  and  from  all  the  prophets. 
He  interpreted  to  them  in  all  the  Scriptures  the  things 
concerning  Himself."  It  will  be  observed  that  our 
Evangelist  uses  a  peculiar  word  in  speaking  of  this 
Divine  exposition.  He  calls  it  an  "interpretation," 
a  word  used  in  the  New  Testament  only  in  the  sense 
of  translating  from  one  language  to  another,  from  the 
unknown  to  the  known  tongue.  And  such,  indeed,  it 
was;  for  they  had  read  the  Scriptures  but  in  part, 
Rnd  so  misread  them.     They  had  thrown  upon  those 


Bdv.)  THE  FIRST  LORD'S  DAY.  4M 

Scriptures  the  projections  of  their  o^vn  hopes  and 
illusions ;  while  other  Scriptures,  those  relating  to  the 
sufferings  of  Christ,  were  set  back,  out  of  sight,  or  if 
heard  at  all,  they  were  only  the  voice  of  an  unknown 
tongue,  a  vox  et  preterea  nihil.  So  Jesus  interprets  to 
them  the  voices  of  this  unknown  tongue.  Beginning 
at  Moses,  He  shows,  from  the  types,  the  prophecies, 
and  the  Psalms,  how  that  the  Christ  must  suffer  and 
die,  ere  the  glories  of  His  kingdom  can  begin ;  that 
the  cross  and  the  grave  both  lay  in  the  path  of 
the  Redeemer,  as  the  bitter  and  prickly  calyx  out  of 
which  the  "glories"  should  unfold  themselves.  And 
thus,  opening  their  Scriptures,  putting  in  the  crimson 
lens  of  the  blood,  as  well  as  the  chromatic  lens  of  the 
Messianic  glory,  the  disciples  find  the  cross  all  trans- 
figured, inwoven  in  God's  eternal  purpose  of  redemption; 
while  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  at  which  they  had 
stumbled  before,  they  now  see  were  part  of  the  eternal 
plan  of  mercy,  a  Divine  "  ought,"  a  great  necessity. 

They  had  now  reached  Emmaus,  the  limit  of  their 
journey,  but  the  two  disciples  cannot  lose  the  company 
of  One  whose  words  have  opened  to  them  a  new  and 
a  bright  world  ;  and  though  He  was  evidently  going 
on  farther,  they  constrained  Him  to  abide  with  them, 
as  it  was  towards  evening  and  the  day  was  far  spent. 
And  He  went  in  to  tarry  with  them,  though  not  for 
long.  Sitting  down  to  meat,  the  Stranger  Guest, 
without  any  apology,  takes  the  place  of  the  host,  and 
blessing  the  bread,  He  breaks  and  gives  to  them. 
Was  it  the  uplifted  face  threw  them  back  on  the  old, 
familiar  days?  or  did  they  read  the  nail-mark  in 
His  hand  ?  We  do  not  know ;  but  in  an  instant  the 
veil  in  which  He  had  enfolded  Himself  was  withdrawn, 
and  they  knew  Him :  it  was  the  Lord  Himself,  the 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ST,  LUKE, 


risen  Jesus  I  In  a  moment  the  hush  of  a  great  awe 
fell  upon  them,  and  before  they  had  time  to  embrace 
Him  whom  they  had  loved  so  passionately,  indeed 
before  their  lips  could  frame  an  exclamation  of  surprise, 
He  had  vanished ;  He  "  became  invisible  "  to  them,  as 
it  reads,  passing  out  of  their  sight  like  a  dissolving 
cloud.  And  when  they  did  recover  themselves  it  was 
not  to  speak  His  name — there  was  no  need  of  that — 
but  to  say  one  to  another,  *'Was  not  our  heart  burning 
within,  us  while  He  spake  to  us  in  the  way,  while  He 
opened  to  us  the  Scriptures?"  It  was  to  them  a 
bright  Apocalypse,  "the  Revelation  of  Jesus  Christ," 
who  was  dead,  and  is  alive  for  evermore ;  and  all- 
forgetful  of  their  errand,  and  though  it  is  evening,  they 
leave  Emmaus  at  once,  their  winged  feet  not  heeding 
the  sixty  furlongs  now,  as  they  haste  to  Jerusalem  to 
announce  to  the  eleven,  and  to  the  rest,  that  Jesus  has 
indeed  arisen,  and  has  appeared  unto  them. 

Returning  to  Jerusalem,  they  go  direct  to  the  well- 
known  try  sting-place,  where  they  find  the  Apostles 
("  the  eleven "  as  the  band  was  now  called,  though, 
as  St.  John  informs  us,  Thomas  was  not  present)  and 
others  gathered  for  their  evening  meal,  and  speaking 
of  another  and  later  appearance  of  Jesus  to  Simon, 
which  must  have  occurred  during  their  absence  from 
the  city ;  and  they  add  to  the  growing  wonder  by 
telling  of  their  evening  adventure,  and  how  Jesus  was 
known  of  them  in  breaking  of  bread.  But  while  they 
discussed  the  subject — for  the  majority  were  yet  in 
doubt  as  to  the  reality  of  the  appearances — Jesus  Him- 
self stood  before  them,  passing  through  the  fastened 
door;  for  the  same  fear  that  shut  the  door  would 
securly  lock  it.  Though  giving  to  them  the  old-time 
salutation,   "Peace  be  to   you,"  it  did  not   calm  the 


Kxiv.]  THE  FIRST  LORD'S  DAY,  413 

unrest  and  agitation  of  their  soul ;  the  chill  of  a  great 
fear  fell  upon  them,  as  the  spectral  Shadow,  as  they 
thought  it,  stood  before  them.  "  Why  are  ye  troubled  ?  " 
asks  Jesus,  "and  wherefore  do  reasonings  arise  in 
your  hearts  ? "  for  they  fairly  trembled  with  fear,  as 
the  word  would  imply.  **  See  My  hands  and  My  feet, 
that  it  is  I  Myself:  handle  Me,  and  see;  for  a  spirit 
hath  not  flesh  and  bones,  as  ye  behold  Me  having."  He 
then  extended  His  hands,  drew  back  His  robe  from  His 
feet,  and,  as  St.  John  says,  uncovered  His  side,  that 
they  might  see  the  wounds  of  the  nails  and  the  spear, 
and  that  by  these  visible,  tangible  proofs  they  might 
he  convinced  of  the  reality  of  His  Resurrection  body. 
It  was  enough ;  their  hearts  in  an  instant  swung  round 
from  an  extreme  of  fear  to  an  extreme  of  joy,  a  sort 
of  wild  joy,  in  which  Reason  for  the  moment  became 
confused,  and  Faith  bewildered.  But  while  the  heavenly 
trance  is  yet  upon  them  Jesus  recalls  them  to  earthly 
things,  asking  if  they  have  any  meat;  and  when  they 
give  Him  a  piece  of  a  broiled  fish,  some  of  the  remnants 
of  their  own  repast.  He  takes  and  eats  before  them  all ; 
not  that  now  He  needed  the  sustenance  of  earthly  food, 
in  His  resurrection  life,  but  that  by  this  simple  act  He 
might  put  another  seal  upon  His  true  humanity.  It 
was  a  kind  of  sacrament,  showing  forth  His  oneness 
with  His  own ;  that  on  the  farther  side  of  the  grave, 
in  His  exaltation,  as  on  this,  in  His  humiliation,  He  was 
still  the  "  Son  of  man,"  interested  in  ail  things,  even 
the  commonplaces,  of  humanity. 

The  interview  was  not  for  long,  for  the  risen  Christ 
dwelt  apart  from  His  disciples,  coming  to  them  at 
uncertain  times  and  only  for  brief  spaces.  He  lingers, 
however,  now,  to  explain  to  the  eleven,  as  before  to 
the  two,  the  great  mystery  of  the  Redemption      He 


414  THR  GOSPEL   OF  57-  LUKE. 


opens  their  minds,  that  the  truth  may  pass  within. 
Gathering  up  the  lamps  of  prophecy  suspended  through 
the  Scriptures,  He  turns  their  varying  Hghts  upon 
Himself,  the  Me  of  whom  they  testify.  He  shows 
them  how  it  is  written  in  their  law  that  the  Christ 
must  suffer,  the  Christ  must  die,  the  Christ  must 
rise  again  the  third  day,  and  *'  that  repentance  and 
remission  of  sins  should  be  preached  in  His  name  unto 
all  the  nations,  beginning  from  Jerusalem."  And  then 
He  gave  to  these  preachers  of  repentance  and  remission 
the  promise  of  which  the  Book  of  the  Acts  is  a  fulfil- 
ment and  enlargement,  the  "promise  of  the  Father," 
which  is  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  It  was  the 
prophecy  of  the  Pentecost,  the  first  rustle  of  the 
mighty  rushing  wind,  that  Divine  breath  which  comes 
to  all  who  will  receive  it. 

Our  Evangelist  passes  in  silence  other  appearances 
of  the  Resurrection  Life,  those  forty  days  in  which,  by 
His  frequent  manifestations.  He  was  training  His  dis- 
ciples to  trust  in  His  unseen  Presence.  He  only  in  a 
few  closing  words  tells  of  the  Ascension ;  how,  near 
Bethany,  He  was  parted  from  them,  and  taken  up  into 
heaven,  throwing  down  benedictions  from  His  uplifted 
hands  even  as  He  went ;  and  how  the  disciples  returned 
to  Jerusalem,  not  sorrowing,  as  men  bereaved,  but  with 
great  joy,  having  learned  now  to  endure  and  rejoice 
ai  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible,  the  unseen  but  ever- 
present  Christ  That  St.  Luke  omits  the  other  Resur- 
rection appearances  is  probably  because  he  intended 
to  insert  them  in  his  prelude  to  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles, 
which  he  does,  as  he  joins  his  second  treatise  to  the 
first.  Nor  is  it  altogether  an  incidental  coincidence 
that  aa  he  writes  his  later  story  he  begins  at  Jeru- 
y^^m^    ingering  in  the  upper  room  which  waa  the 


xxiv.]  THE  FIRST  LORD'S  DAY.  415 

wind-rocked  cradle  of  the  Church,  and  inserting  as 
key-words  of  the  new  story  these  four  words  from 
the  old  :  Repentance,  Remission,  Promise,  Power.  The 
two  books  are  thus  one,  a  seamless  robe,  woven  for 
the  living  Christ,  the  one  giving  us  the  Christ  of  the 
Humiliation,  the  other  the  Christ  of  the  Exaltation, 
who  speaks  now  from  the  upper  heavens,  and  whose 
power  is  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

And  was  it  altogether  undesigned  that  our  Evan- 
gelist, omitting  other  appearances  of  the  forty  days, 
yet  throws  such  a  wealth  of  interest  and  of  colouring 
into  that  first  Easter  day,  filling  it  up  from  its  early 
dawn  to  its  late  evening?  We  think  not.  He  is 
writing  to  and  for  the  Gentiles,  whose  Sabbaths  are 
not  on  the  last  but  on  the  first  day  of  the  week,  and 
he  stays  to  picture  for  us  that  first  Lord's  day,  the 
day  chosen  by  the  Lord  of  the  Sabbath  for  this  high 
consecration.  And  as  the  Holy  Church  throughout 
all  the  world  keeps  her  Sabbaths  now,  her  anthems 
and  songs  are  a  sweet  incense  burned  by  the  door  of 
the  empty  sepulchre ;  for,  "  The  light  which  threw  the 
glory  of  the  Sabbath  into  the  shade  was  the  glory  of 
the  Risen  Lord.* 


Date  Due 


